Trials and Tribulations
by Little Silver Rose
Summary: A single mother. A lone pianist. Broken love. Lost parents. Can these two conflicted people help each other survive in themselves? Can they find a love that's worth keeping? First Collabo with Reader4Lyfe- posted on her profile too.
1. Surprises

Hey, people! Here's the collabo I'm doing with my best friend **Reader4Lyfe**. We've been working on this for a while and we're a few chappies ahead. We're not sure how often this will be updated but really it depends on the feedback we get from you readers out there! So enjoy and there's more info at the bottom.

Mountains and mountains of love to R4L's beta, **BellaTonks**, for betaing this for us. She's awemazastic if I do say so myself. Check out her stories too.

_**Disclaimer:**_ "I own, R4L and LSR don't. They do, however, own Snow, the plot, and their ridiculously wonderful personalities." S.M.

**Chapter One**

**BPOV**

I walked slowly up my driveway and into my house, awkwardly shifting my sleeping two-year-old son in my arms so that his head wouldn't hit the doorframe as I moved past the door. Once in the living room, I flipped on a lamp that was next to the couch and gently laid the lightly snoring baby boy on the couch.

I was too tired to walk all the way upstairs to put him to bed. Damien's breathing h itched as I laid him down but he didn't wake and I was glad. I was running late from work so I'd just picked him up from the babysitter's.

It was eleven o'clock at night and Melanie, the babysitter, wasn't too happy that I was late, but she was glad that he was sleeping. It was less work for her and she was glad that he wasn't bouncing off the walls as usual. My boss kept me late in a meeting, talking about a merger with a company overseas, that was supposed to bring the A&M company big money.

I was sitting in that meeting for a full four hours before they finally came up with a plan to sway the company in the direction that we wanted them to go.

A&M (Avery and Mason) was a company that made advertisements for about anything you could think of. I had the wonderful job of watching demos other, smaller companies made that they wanted viewed worldwide in fifty different languages or more. It was kind of like when people watch the Super Bowl. The more viewers we got, the more money we made.

We merged with the smaller advertising companies around the U.S., like Mercer Advertisement, Claude and Company, TJ's Ads, just to name a few. They were, of course, the most popular ones but A&M was the number one company. I had one of the highest ranked jobs on the highest floor in the A&M building, yes, I said building.

I made more money in six months tha n a heart surgeon made in three years. I was a twenty-five year old single mother who had stressing work hours, but more money than I could've ever asked for.

Damien made a gurgling noise and turned his little head to the side, almost stuffing his face in the couch cushions. I rubbed his back lightly, as he was sleeping on his stomach. He always cried when he slept on his back and even after two years I still couldn't figure out why. He moved his left arm, bringing his hand to his face to stuff his tiny little thumb in his mouth. I smiled at the adorable sight.

He was—is—my angel. He kept me grounded after—

I stopped myself from thinking the thought. It would destroy the peace that had settled in the room.

I sighed and stood up to lock the front door after a quick glance at Damien to make sure he didn't wake up from the movement I made. I went to the kitchen, grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and downed it in two gulps. I was really tired but I knew I couldn't sleep yet. I grabbed an apple from the compartment at the bottom of the still open fridge. I bit into it, closing the door with my foot and walked back into the living room.

Damien was still in the same position I'd left him in, not that I was expecting something else, but a mother can worry can't she? I scratched his brown hair that was so much like mine. I finished off the apple and quickly threw it into the trashcan in the kitchen then went back to my sleeping son.

I scooped him up carefully so as to not wake him. His head lulled to the side a little off my shoulder before I pushed it back into my neck. His thumb stayed in his mouth as I made my way up stairs. I walked to his bedroom, grabbed a set of pajamas from a drawer and went to my room, walking past a guestroom and extra bathroom.

I laid Damien on my bed, his back on the bed and hastily but gently changed his clothes before he could start squirming from sleeping on his back. I moved him up toward my pillows and covered him with the midnight blue fluffy comforter up to his shoulders.

I scratched his head again and kissed his forehead. I hurriedly showered and changed in my pajamas then slipped in bed beside my baby boy. I lightly rested my right hand on his back—because some part of me just had to be touching him—and promptly fell asleep.

It seemed like minutes later that I woke up to a slight tugging on my hair and a soft giggling in my ear. I groaned and rubbed my eyes. The sunlight seeping through my light blue curtains momentarily blinded me so I couldn't open my eyes for a few second. I unconsciously moved the hand that I remembered placing on Damien's back around in search of his warm, tiny body.

But when I didn't feel it immediately, I bolted up righ t, ready to ransack the house for my baby. But then I heard a giggle on the other side of me and felt another tug on my hair. I turned my head and there he was.

All smiles.

My sunshine.

My baby.

Damien was sitting upright, on his little bottom, grinning like a Cheshire cat showing his two little teeth at the top and the four on the bottom. He had a tiny fistful of my hair in his hand and he tugged on it lightly, as if he knew that if he pulled any harder it would hurt me.

"Momma," he said.

This time _I_ grinned like a Cheshire cat. Damien's other empty hand waved in the air like he was saying hi.

"Hey, baby boy, did you sleep well?" I cooed at him.

Damien's little head shook and the brown curls of hair shook too. He let go of my hair and clapped his little hands together.

"That's my boy." I praised him.

I pulled my legs from under the covers, still trying to figure how he got on the other side of me, and slid my feet into my slippers. I scooped Damien up in my arms as he squirmed and then giggled loudly.

"Hungry?" I asked.

"I hunggy," he said. I grinned again.

I walked down the hallway, past the bathroom and into his room. I set Damien down on the floor and he walked, sluggishly, to his little chest by his bed. He grabbed a white, fluffy bunny rabbit from the top of it and then turned to me. He held the bunny up as if it was a trophy and smiled a toothy grin, and then started on his trek back to me.

He fell once or twice; my guess was that the bunny was messing with his balance, because it continued on. He never cried while learning to walk, not even when he'd fall. He was determined. His light brown brows would pull together in concentration and he wouldn't pout no matter how many times he fell trying to walk across the room.

I was eternally grateful I had my house baby-proofed; lush cloud-like carpet, socket covers, soft furniture, minimal things he'd be able to reach spread around the house. I had a few pictures here and there but they were too high up for him to reach.

Damien loved toys, I mean what baby doesn't? He had a play room where he could run around or practice walking in, a chest full of even more toys—mainly animals—than he had in his room.

Damien's loud giggle erupted in my ears and I found him yanking on my Joe Boxer sleeping pants. He held his white bunny up to me and said loudly "Shnow!"

I picked him up again.

"Snow's coming to breakfast, too?" I asked.

He nodded and tucked Snow under his arm tightly. I moved the gate to block the stairs so he w ouldn't go traipsing up them when I wasn't looking.

The living room was bright from the sunlight streaming in. The tan carpet contrasted nicely with the dark blue furniture and walls. The flat screen T.V. rested on a maple wood entertainment center. I could open and close the sliding doors that covered the T.V. Damien's wild collection of kiddy movies and games he liked to play surrounded the T.V. on shelves and in cabinets. Movies I'd gotten for myself were mixed in somewhere.

I turned the corner around the stairs and walked to the kitchen.

"What would we like to eat today?" I sang to Damien. He giggled again and bounced in my arms.

"Pa' cates!" He said loudly.

"Alright, pancakes it is." I said.

Damien squealed and I set him in a chair that was high enough for him to get in and out without hurting himself.

I was glad that it was Saturday. On the rarity that I wasn't too tired I'd ask him what he wanted for breakfast and he'd always say pancakes. I guess he got that from me because I absolutely love pancakes. We eat them with butter and syrup, though I make sure not to put too much of either on his when he wants them.

I flipped on the radio and a song I knew, What I've Done by Linkin Park, was playing. I danced to it and sang the words as I grabbed a bowl from the cupboard above the counter and eggs, milk, and pancake mix from the fridge.

I danced around the kitchen, singing and mixing the ingredients in the bowl. Damien squealed and laughed and tried sing the words with me. While the pancakes were cooking, I made Damien's bottle of milk and myself a cup of orange juice. I wasn't too big on coffee.

I made eggs and bacon also when the pancakes were done. I buttered our pancakes, scooped a bit of eggs onto Damien's plate after cutting up his two pancakes into chewable pieces. Taylor Swift's Love Story was playing on the radio. I hummed along with it while I ate and watched Damien eat. Occasionally he grabbed at his bottle to drink some milk. One time when he reached for it and knocked it over, he squirmed and his cute little face scrunched up as he cried. I reached out and grabbed the bottle before all the milk spilled on the counter.

His face was adorable.

I cleaned up a bit after and ate what was left on Damien's plate, it wasn't much but I didn't want it to go to waste. I put the dishes in the dishwasher and started it. Damien grabbed Snow and hopped off the chair. He walked into the living room and pointed to the T.V.

I grabbed the remote from the top shelf and flipped it on. The clock next to the T.V. said eleven a.m. We made good time. I was glad he'd slept through the night. He was usually rest less if I wasn't there to put him to bed.

We watched Blue's Clues for an hour before Damien started walking around again. I followed him to his play room and he played in there for a bit while I read a book or played with him whenever he invited me.

"Momma," His little voice called. I looked up only to be met with the exact same brown eyes that I had.

"Yes, baby boy?" I smiled at him.

His legs were mushed together as if he was holding his bladder. It took everything I had not to laugh at the face he was making.

"I go p-potty." I nodded and he half walked, half ran to the stairs. He paused at the first step because I still hadn't removed the gate from the stairs yet. He was bouncing in place and I knew he had to go badly.

I quickly moved it to the side and helped him up the stairs to the bathroom. His little blue potty was right next the 'big towet' as he called it. I knew he was referring to the toilet, but he was so small that it looked like a giant to him. It made me laugh.

I watched as he took care of his business. It was hard teaching him his first year because he was so used to diapers, as any child would be. But like the determination he held for walking he was determined to get potty training down packed too.

And boy did he get it down pack. He hardly ever missed the potty even when he was either tired or worn out from a long day.

"Momma, I did it!!" He squealed.

I leaned up off the door frame and walked toward him.

"Yes you did! That's my boy." He smiled his toothy grin and clapped his little hands.

"Let's clean those."

I picked him up under the underarms and held his hands over the white sink. He pushed a tidbit of soap from the little bottle into his hand, rubbed them together and pushed his hands under the warm water.

"Park! Park!" He squealed when we were leaving the bathroom.

"If you want to go you have to have a bath, first."

Damien looked thoughtful for a moment then nodded his head frantically.

Damien held onto the first two fingers of my right hand as we walked to his room. I grabbed a pair of shorts and a short sleeved shirt from a drawer along with some underwear and an undershirt.

I picked up his Johnson & Johnson lotion and a towel on the way out. I ran some water in the tub and squeezed in some of his favorite bubbles. When the water was nice and warm, I stripped him of his clothes and placed him in the tub. I grabbed his 'tubby toys' as he called them from a box in the towel cabinet, as well as a wash cloth.

I scrubbed him clean, washed his brown curly hair and splashed a bit of water him. He squealed and splashed me harder than I splashed him, wetting my shirt and the ends of my hair. One of his toys landed on the other side of the bathroom, how that happened I do not know.

Damien loved his baths. He had about as much fun as he did in his play room only he had to get me all wet in the process. But nevertheless, I loved him.

I dried him off, spread the lotion on him and dressed him. He waited patiently with Snow in his arms in the middle of my bed while I dressed. I threw on some nice fitting jeans and a form-fitting blue and white striped shirt. I held part of my hair back from my face with a black clip.

We walked back to his room and packed a little bag with a few clothes, wipes, toys, lotion, and sun screen as it was quite hot outside. We went downstairs and put a few bottles of milk, juice and water and some snacks in the bag.

I made sure I had my wallet, keys, phone and sunglasses before we headed out.

The hot Miami air was a slight shock to me since I was so used the central-air in the house. Damien held my two fingers with one hand and Snow in the other as we walked down the driveway to the sidewalk.

I made sure to put sunscreen on both of us so we wouldn't burn. We walked to the park that wasn't too far from the house. Damien made funny noises along the way. People greeted us while we walked and women gushed over him. Men gave me looks but I ignored them.

Damien and I came to this park all most every weekend since a month after he was born. He loved it and so did I. I laid a blanket out on the grass and we played with his toys for a while before my cell rang. Damien was snacking on some juice and crackers, almost completely oblivious.

I checked the caller I.D.

The boss. Davidson. What was he doing calling me on the weekend?

"Davidson," I answered.

"Ms. Swan, glad you could take my call." He said his tone as businesslike as ever.

"Of course, but you know I'm off on weekends and right now I don't really appreciate you interrupting the time I'm spending with my son." I was a bit peeved that he called on the weekend and he knew I was a force to be reckoned with when people called me when they weren't supposed to. Boss or not, no one messed with me. And I was still slightly ticked that he kept me late last night.

"Um, uh, I do apologize about that, but something has come up." He said nervously. I may have been under his supervision but he wasn't the one that wrote my checks.

"Do tell."

"The merger we discussed last night…well…um…you see…"

"Spit it out, Davidson." I said irritably. Damien was still staring off into space, his bottle lodged in his mouth. He looked to be dozing off a bit.

"The A&M wants to send you to Paris." He said in a rush.

My eyes went wide.

"What?!"

**EPOV**

The cobblestone street, the calm, gentle waters, and the silence of the night were soothing. I stood on my balcony gazing up at the sky. It was ten at night and the sky was already black with a few bright specks of light here and there.

Somewhere in the distance I could hear cars driving by and the Sienne River flowing quietly, passing the stone walls. The wind blew my messy as ever hair to one side. I breathed in the cool air. It cleared my head and let my mind drift.

It was night's like these that sometimes kept me sane. They helped me think. They told me that I didn't have to suffer. I opened my eyes to see the Eiffel Tower way off in the distance, lit by thousands of lights. I could see the Notre Dame lit too, but with not as many lights.

The buildings that surrounded my apartment were slightly shorter so I could look over them. I could see everything that was lit and even some things that weren't lit. It was beautiful, really. Paris at night was often better than Paris in the day time.

Its beauty was one of the reasons why I moved here. I loved the history of it, the beauty of it, the places it had, and the people.

I had my own Piano Shop. I built it from scratch, bought everything in it with my own hard earned money. I sold pianos, taught lessons to people. I even had my own albums that I'd make a handful of money from. I was my own producer and recording artist. I wrote my music and played it. My music was a part of me. It was a part of why I moved to Paris five years ago. My father died in a car accident right before I graduated from college and my mother, well; let's just say she closed herself off from everything and everyone in the world, including me.

Of course she came to my graduation but after that I never saw her again. When I went back to the house afterwards she wasn't there and I picked up and left. I sent her letters and pictures sometimes, but I've never gotten a reply back. It worried me. And believe me, I've tried to find her in the past, but she made it as if she didn't want to be found so I stopped.

I sent her one last letter with my address and phone number and my only hope is that someday she'll call or show up on my doorstep. It seems farfetched, but I still hope every day.

Since the pain of losing virtually both my parents, I buried myself in my music. I worked for two years saving up enough money to buy the land to build on and then two m ore years building the shop. People loved the music I made. I bought the pianos from around the world sellers; fixed them up if they were broken, and sold them.

I started giving lessons to people who really wanted to learn and made side money off the CD's I made. I didn't really need it, but people enjoyed it and that was enough for me. I had a good life, despite the fact that I am practically an orphan even though I'm a grown man.

My parents were my everything. Sometimes I'd find myself thinking about them to the point I wasn't aware of my surroundings. I'd tune everything out and the only thing left would be their faces. Their laugh, their voices, their eyes, their love…

It was hard going on without them. It was hard knowing I'd never get to hear my father tell me how proud he was that I'd made it this far in such a short time. It was hard not hearing my mother fuss and fuss about how messy and unruly my hair was and that I get it from my father.

It was hard…

But I got through it, somehow I got through it, but I didn't think I'd be able to last much longer. I did everything I could to get them off my mind so I could live, but it was hard…

I sometimes worked on pianos until my fingers bled or played them until my fingers bled and my wrists hurt from holding them in the same position fo r hours on end or my spine felt like it was going to break because I'd never relax my rigid pose above the piano.

I hardly slept and the sleep I did get was often plagued by my mother's destroyed face when she found out her husband was dead. I was plagued by the last time I talked to my father. Plagued by his smile, the way he looked at my mother, the way he told me he loved me when I was a little boy…

"_Edward?" I heard my father calling me._

"_In here, Dad."_

_Edward Sr. walked into the kitchen with my mother, Elizabeth, in tow. Her face lit up when she saw me._

"_Edward, dear!" She rushed up and hugged me. I hadn't seen her in six months. College really kept me busy and I had a job on top of that, working as a part-time piano player at a local bar. I was paid a lot there and it helped me with school and a few future plans I had._

"_Hey, Mom," she hugged me and leaned back to kiss my forehead._

"_How're you, son?" Edward Sr. asked._

"_I'm getting there. Graduation isn't for a few weeks and I finally managed to get myself out of there to come see you guys."_

"_That's great! Have you been here long? I'll fix you dinner." Elizabeth hurried around the kitchen pulled various items to start dinner._

"_Mom, you don't have to—" I started._

"_Oh, hush! I want to fix you dinner and you are going to eat it." She told me sternly._

_I nodded and mumbled a 'yes, ma'am'. Dad grinned and shook his head. Mom always got like that when I came home._

_While Mom cooked, Dad and I walked about the house. We told jokes, we laughed, and we talked. After a minute he grabbed me up in a bone-crushing hug, telling me he loved me and that he was glad I was graduating. He said whatever I'd need for the plans I was making he'd be there every step of the way. He'd help me with anything I'd need._

"_Love you, too, dad." I mumbled into his shoulder._

_He pulled me back into the kitchen where the smell of cheese and oregano was coming from. He and Mom talked and told me how they couldn't wait until my graduation. They said they were going to be the loudest one's cheering and that made my cheeks burn just thinking about it._

"_Oh shoot!" Mom said suddenly._

"_What, Lizzy, something wrong?" Dad was by her side in a flash as he was sitting next to me, giving my mother room to cook._

"_I need more cheese and oil and milk, otherwise this will all go to waste." She pouted and dad shook his head, smiling. He kissed her forehead then her lips._

"_I'll go get some more, no worries, okay?" She nodded._

"_No Dad. I'll go get it. You guys just got in."_

"_It's fine, Edward. You just came back to us. You aren't going anywhere tonight."_

_I shrugged and nodded._

_He kissed mom once more, told her he loved her and vice versa, squeezed my shoulder and headed out the door…_

He never walked back in. Mother never finished dinner. My plans got delayed.

I felt tears run down my face. My chest constricted. It hurt. It hurt so much…

I slumped against the banister on the balcony and then slid down the floor. The tears flowed relentlessly. The sobs tore from my chest with abandonment. It was wrong for a grown man to cry like such a baby, but I didn't give a fuck. I lost the only two things that mattered more to me than pianos and music.

I didn't care who heard me. I didn't care that I was outside, considering throwing myself off the balcony. I didn't care that it had started to rain. The tears mixed in with the rain. It masked the sounds of my sobbing somewhat. It soaked through my shirt and my flannel bottoms.

I don't know how long I was out there. I don't remember going back inside. I don't remember getting under the covers and stuffing my face in the plush pillows.

My alarm clock rang in my ears.

_07:00!!_

I groaned and then coughed from the scratchiness in my throat. I dragged myself out of bed, showered and dressed in jeans and black button up. I only had to teach today. I walked out of my apartment, took the stairs down and out of the lobby doors.

"Matin, Monsieur Masen." Mrs. Long said to me.

I smiled at the elderly woman. She worked at the service desk and had to be the nicest old lady I've ever met. Her long gray hair stopped at her waist and the wrinkles on her were so friendly that you couldn't help but befriend the old woman. She and her husband also owned the building; the Long Building, ironically.

"Matin à vous aussi, Mrs. Long."

I was fluent in French and Italian as it was necessary to live here. Occasionally there might be an Italian in town and sometimes someone spoke English, but it was rare. I walked the few blocks to the shop. Masen's Musique, the sign read in black elegant script.

I pulled the keys from my pocket, nodded and said greetings to my neighboring shopkeepers. There was a jewelry store on my right and a pastry shop on my left. The pastry shop was very convenient when I was hungry or when my students needed a break.

The pianos I had on display were worth thousands, if not tens of thousands of dollars. I reduced the price because one; I had to fix them as they weren't brand new, and two; I had bought them off of someone else. It wouldn't be fair to hike up the price when they're not really worth that much.

It's like price gouging.

Anyways, I had three students today.

Emma at noon, she was bouncy little girl that loved the piano. She was only ten and she could play like a pro. Then, David at three, he was an impatient little boy of only eight. I'd been teaching him for three months and he still couldn't get the simple things right but he was nothing if not determined. And last but not least, Wesley at six, he was a bit older than the other two, twelve. He was stubborn and didn't want to take lessons at first, said that his mother was making him do it. After about a month of listening to me play it piqued his interest and he choose to learn how to play instead of watching me for two hours.

It didn't matter much to me because I was getting paid a hundred and fifty euro an hour. Of course I loved to teach, don't get me wrong, but I needed the money to keep this business going.

Seeing as it was a Saturday more people had things to do which was why I only had three students. I sold more than taught. People bought my lessons that I have published in books, on tape, CD, whatever sated their need. They bought parts for pianos and some people even came in and asked if I did house calls.

I did do house calls but only on days when business was relatively slow, I had free time, or someone cancelled their lesson.

I walked next door to the pastry shop before Emma was supposed to come in and ordered a coffee and croissant. It was quite nice out so I sat outside the little shop, at one the tables with the umbrellas to block the sun. I left the side door open to the stairs that led up the classroom where I taught.

A while later, after I paid for my light brunch I saw Emma skipping down the little cobblestone path toward my shop. She had on a white sundress with little roses scattered across it and her dirty blond hair was pulled into two ponytails that bounced on her little shoulders.

I saw her mother and father behind her holding hands and smiling.

My chest hurt at the sight.

"Edward!" Emma spotted me. I smiled as she looked so adorable. I stood and she ran and hugged me around the waist.

"How are you, Emma?" I asked rubbing her back lightly.

"I'm good. Mom let me practice that piece you told me to work on last week. I think I got it, now. It was hard but I think I got it!" She seemed so excited.

"That's good. We'll see if you did if you go upstairs, okay?"

She nodded and went to the side door and on up the steps. Her parents caught up, now.

"Après-midi, Edward." Her father, Richard, said. I shook his hand as per usual.

"Après-midi, Edward." Her mother, Dianna, said. She did the traditional kiss-each-cheek greeting.

"How's she doing?" Richard asked.

"Really well, actually. She said you let her practice the piece I gave her last week."

"Oui, oui, we did. She sounded good." Dianna said.

"We'll see today." They handed me cash to pay for the next two hours and went on about their way.

Emma was already practicing the piece I gave her and she was doing extraordinary. We practiced some more and then started a new piece, one that I let her pick out. It was fairly difficult and I told her so, but she wanted to do it anyway, so I let her. After about an hour we went to the pastry shop and ate bit of food and started practicing again.

Sometimes someone would come to the shop and ask for my services. I'd have Emma continue practicing while I went to take care of business and thus went my day.

I spoke to David's parents and Wesley's. They were all doing well and I found out that David was moving to North America to live with his aunt because his parent's had to go to England to take care of his sick grandfather on his father's side. They didn't want to expose David to death and sickness at such a young age.

So after today I had an extra free period of time in between Emma and Wesley.

I closed shop at about eleven as it was Saturday and people were out later. I walked home like I usually did, but lingered a bit by the Sienne River. It flowed as a river should. It never stopped, without a care in the world.

Sometimes I envied that river because boats interrupted the flow of it every day, but it kept going. It didn't care that they sailed in the opposite direction of the flow. It didn't care that it was being obstructed.

It continued on. Never stopping, never slowing.

I wished I could do that. I wished I could go a day without worrying about where my mother is or if I'm going to hear from her or see her ever again. I wish I could get over my father's death, as it had been five years.

I walked into my apartment after giving Mrs. Long a chocolate pastry and coffee I'd bought before the pastry shop closed. I threw my keys on the stand beside the door, but then walked back out because I'd forgotten to get the mail.

I opened the metal box, pulled out the few envelopes and daily news paper and walked back through my door. I flipped through the mail.

Bill. Bill. Junk. Bill. Junk.

Then I froze.

The handwriting. The name. The return address.

It couldn't be. After five years.

It couldn't be.

**Translations**

**Matin-Morning**

**Matin a vous aussi-Morning to you too**

**Apres-midi-Afternoon**

So, tell us what you think. Hit the little green button. You know you want to. *wink wink* Reviews make us write faster. They boost our small egos, too. Lol.

~R4L and LSR~


	2. Hurting

Hey guys! I'm glad you liked the first chapter! So far, this story has two reviews while the other has five. Together that's seven lol. Love the reviews! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter too, because I sure do!! I love the next one even more though! haha.

Thanks lots to R4L's beta, **BellaTonks**, for betaing our collabo and thanks to my bestestestest friend, **Reader4Lyfe**, for being such an awemazastic friend!!!!! (It's awesome, amazing, and fantastic put together hehe. Forgot to mention that in the first chapter.) Enjoy!!

And don't forget to review!!

_**Disclaimer:**_ "I own everything but R4L and LSR's minds, characters, and plot!!! Hope you enjoy the chapter so much that you can't wait until the next chapter!!" S.M.

**Chapter Two**

**BPOV  
**

"What the hell do you mean, I have to go to Paris?!"

"Ms. Swan, could you please not be so loud? I do not think it is wise, what with your son right out—"

"Don't talk to me about my son. He's the reason I'm in your office, yelling in your fucking face! Why do I have to go to Paris?! I have a son to care for!" I was beyond hysterical by this point.

As soon as Davidson popped out that ridiculous statement I snapped my phone shut, packed everything up Damien and I had out, half ran back to the house, jumped in the car and drove to the office. Damien squirmed in his car seat because Snow wasn't with him (Snow was in the front seat) and I had to stop because he started crying.

I gave him a bottle, tucked Snow in his arms and we were well on our way. I hastily unbuckled him, grabbed the bag we'd brought and took the elevator to the right floor. Davidson knew there was a storm coming. He had to because there was no way in hell he'd call me and except a happy greeting after telling me I have to fly across the world.

Okay, so maybe that was an exaggerated hyperbole but whatever!

Like I said before, boss or no boss, I'm a force to be reckoned with.

I left Damien with Davidson's secretary right outside the room I was currently raging in. I knew I was loud but I couldn't help it! I was angry.

"Ms. Swan, please listen. A&M asked for you specifically. He called me just this morning and requested that you go as a representative for this company. But—"

"But?! There's a 'but'?" I asked frantically. I felt like pulling my hair out.

Davidson sighed. He looked disheveled, nervous and scared shitless. If I wasn't so angry I would've laughed.

"He says that the process could take anywhere between a week to a year depending on the company's priorities, wants, needs, etc."

"A year?! I can't be away from my son for that long. He only has me and I'd rather shove myself under a bus than leave him for a year under business circumstances!"

"But—"

I stopped my pacing. I wasn't aware I was even doing it upon realizing something he'd said a few times now.

"You said A&M asked for me specifically?"

Davidson nodded.

"Why?"

"Because, and I quote, 'She is the best we've had in years. I know she can get this done and we need this if we want to go international. She's got more talent than half the dimwitted assholes who already work in my building. And she's the only one that can speak fluent French and Italian without sounding like an idiot.' As I said, his words not mine."

Wow, a special recommendation from A&M himself! Hadn't expected that one, I guess those extra language classes in college do come in handy. But there was still one problem.

"But what about my son, I'm not leaving him no matter what A&M says. I can't. My hours are already tiring as it is."

"Yes, we have a solution to that." Davidson said as matter-of-factly.

I cocked an eyebrow.

"Do you, now?"

"A&M knows about your son, as I've told him that, and he suggested a few things." He paused.

"Do tell." I said dryly.

"He has accommodations set for you, should you accept. He also has a person that is well qualified to take care of Damien while you are away. She will come to you and stay until you come back. Your hours won't be anything horrendous, most likely just a few hours a day. And he also offered a position as CEO of this branch of A&M and the merger, should it be successful."

My brows had to be in my hairline by now. A&M had really planned this out.

"And if I should decline?"

"You'll still keep the same job you have here, just less pay."

"How much less?"

"Half."

I almost cringed.

If he cut my pay in half, we'd have to move from a house to an apartment and sell the furniture. I'd be able to make ends meet but it'd be hard. And then I wouldn't have enough to pay for a babysitter…

I sighed.

"What if I do this and the merger doesn't happen? What then?"

"You'll still get the CEO position and your pay would be increased a bit but it wouldn't be as much as it would if the merger worked. If it does work, honestly, you could be a multi-millionaire."

"Wow," I breathed.

Davidson nodded.

I sat on the mahogany couch across from his Maplewood desk.

If I take this merger, I'd be rich and Damien wouldn't have to have me worried as much as it would have if they didn't come up with this idea. He'd be safe and I wouldn't have to leave him for an unknown period of time. But if I didn't, life would be hell. It's hard living in Miami if you don't have the money. It's hard living anywhere if you don't have the money, but some places more than others.

I understand why he'd cut my pay, too, if I declined. It was just the simple reason of declining. He'd think he wasn't good enough and make your life hell if you refused him. You'd call it down and dirty, he'd call it 'good business'.

So…

What the hell?

"When does he want me to leave?" I said dully.

Davidson's eyes brightened a bit and he let out what sounded like a breath of relief. I glared at him and he sucked in a harsh breath. He searched his desk for some papers and when he finally found them he straightened up his slouched posture and pushed his black glasses up his straight nose.

"According to a fax I received from him this morning, ASAP, but in your case he hopes you'll be ready by Friday." He scooted back in his leather chair, opened a drawer in front of him, and pulled out some more slips of paper then scooted back up again, closing the drawer with his stomach.

The papers looked more like brochures to me. I couldn't really see them clearly as his hands were blocking most of the view.

"Ah, the flight from Miami Dade Airport to Paris International, using Lufthansa Airlines, departure time seven p.m. on Friday, June 10th. First class and of course there's a ticket for Damien."

First class, eh?

Hm.

"Do I have to come in this week then?"

Davidson shook his head.

Well that was good.

"Okay, what do I need?"

For the next hour Davidson explained what I was going to be doing, which mainly were conferences that talked about the merging process and benefits for both companies. He printed out an itinerary that was emailed to him during the meeting we'd had last night.

It was ten pages long! I knew I was in for it, then. It was a lot of work but I knew I could get through it. Most of the stuff I already knew, but it went in a certain order that I'd never seen before so I had to get that down pack. I was to talk about certain things on certain days and not mention this or that or say something that was of particular interest to said merging company.

A lot of work indeed.

We talked and organized things until I heard a squeal and then crying coming from Davidson's secretary's office.

I jumped up and almost sprinted into the door trying to get out. I burst through the door to find Damien sitting in the middle of the carpeted, but hard floor, crying his little eyes out. His hands were buried in his eyes and the crying seemed to have gotten louder. I didn't see any injuries on him as I walked toward him to pick him up, that is until he moved his hands to reach out to me.

I saw a cut about as long as my pinky going down the side of his head. It was bleeding and there was blood already smeared on on e of his hands that was rubbing his face, I searched the minuscule room for the bag I'd brought and when I found it, I rushed toward it. I pulled out a few wipes and a shirt.

I scooped the still crying baby into my arms, wiped his cut and covered it with the shirt. Damien flinched away from the wipes, as they stung, and continued crying.

I cradled him in such a way where I could hold him up and hold the shirt to his head with one hand and reach into the bag with the other, in search of his bottle. After rummaging around for several long seconds I finally found one that was mostly full.

I yanked the cap off with my teeth and gave him the juice. Damien quieted almost immediately, the tears stopped streaming down his now red face and his eyes turned a little glazed as he focused on drinking the juice.

I sighed, glad that he'd stopped crying. I hated when he did, scares me to death.

Davidson came in a few seconds later with a band aid that looked long enough to cover the whole scratch. I grabbed more wipes from the bag and carefully pulled the shirt off his head. It had stopped bleeding, which was a good thing, so I wiped it once more for good measure, holding his head because he flinched away and gently put the band aid on.

I kissed it and sighed again.

"At least he won't need stitches. The cut wasn't deep, but it will probably leave a faint scar, hardly noticeable with all that hair he has."

"How do you know?" I eyed him.

He shrugged. "My old man's a doctor, well, retired doctor, actually, taught me a few things before I got into the advertising business."

"Oh."

I sighed again. I bounced Damien lightly on my knee as he drank from his bottle and absentmindedly pulled on my hair. I looked around the room and finally took it in. Damien's few toys were scattered about the floor. Snow was face down on the floor under the secretary's desk. I moved my eyes up to the top of the desk.

Where the hell was the secretary?

"Davidson, where's Brown?" I hated that secretary. Sharon Brown. She always had a rude attitude toward me. She never changed her sour demeanor whenever my son was here and I hated that he had to be exposed to that type of behavior so young.

"Um…I don't know…"

"Well, I know Damien didn't do this to himself. He's too smart for that."

"Um…"

Then a black head appeared on the other side of the blinds that covered the door. The secretary, Brown, pushed the door open with her back as her hands were full with paper towels, a bottle of Alcohol and some band aids. Brown looked up and jumped.

"Oh," she said.

My eyes narrowed.

"Where were you while my son was crying and bleeding?" My voice was deadly calm and I put emphasis on the last to let her know I wasn't too happy.

"Um…uh…I-I was getting s-something to clean him up with." She stuttered. Brown was flustered and she looked almost terrified.

I smirked. She should be.

"If a child is hurt, you don't run to get help. You stay and help the child in any way you can. But, of course you wouldn't know that since you decide to run around the office like a mouse sniffing for food." I heard her gasp. I looked at her face. She was scowling at me, her eyes blazing.

"What happened?" I asked again, my voice was ice cold.

Brown shivered visibly then answered with defiance.

"Your adolescent child tried to climb up the side of my chair. I tried to get him to stop and go back to playing with his little toys and whatnot but he's brain dead and didn't listen. So he slipped and scratched his head on the corner of my desk, then rolled to the middle of the floor. He blinked, looked at me, squealed, and then the waterworks started. I left to get him something to—"

I interrupted her, not wanting to hear her obnoxious voice anymore. I was hard pressed trying to keep my anger under control.

"Don't you ever call my son an adolescent, ever, understood? He's only two years old! He doesn't know any better. And if you call him brain dead one more time, I will not be responsible for what happens to your face." My voice was deadly.

Brown's face paled and her hands shook.

I was suddenly grateful that Damien had fallen asleep, his head resting in the crook of my neck. He didn't need to see me pissed off. To be honest, it wasn't a pretty sight at all.

"You're fired."

I jumped at Davidson's voice. I'd forgotten he was even in the room. I looked up at him. He was leaning a little over me, gazing at Damien sleeping. After a moment, his head whipped around and he stared Brown down.

"I said you're fired. Why are you still standing there?" His voice was almost as cold as mine had been.

Brown's head shook violently.

"You can't do—" She started.

"Oh, yes I can. You've been nothing but rude and careless in the last six months and frankly I'm tired of it. You treat Ms. Swan like trash and she has done more in a week than you could in five years. You are done."

"But—"

"Leave." His voice held the seal of finality.

Brown was fuming. She huffed, her face turning a dark red color then stormed out of the office. The door slammed behind her, the blinds shaking.

Damien made that funny gurgling noise again and turned his head on the other direction, still sleeping.

"Are you really sick of her?" I asked him after a few minutes.

"Hell, yes. She's such a bitch, pardon my language. I only hired her because her resume looked promising. She had a great interview too, but I guess it was a sham. I kept her this long because A&M wouldn't let me fire her until she did something truly…wrong. So, with that said, I was waiting and right now seemed a good a time as any."

I smiled at him for the first time today.

"Thanks."

"Hmm," he smiled.

I shifted Damien in my arms to lay him on the couch.

"I'm really sorry about calling you on your day off. I know you don't get much time to yourself these days, but A&M wouldn't leave it alone. Business is business, you know?" Davidson said when we were back in his office.

"I'm sorry for going off on you, too. It's been really stressful these days. With you being my boss, I would've thought you were going to fire me for all the words that were pouring out of my mouth."

We chuckled.

"No, I couldn't have done that. You are too good to be fired. In truth, you should be over me, but I guess A&M had other plans." I knew he was saying that out of the goodness of his heart. He was a nice man, good to work with but sometimes easily intimidated.

"I guess."

Davidson got a few papers together and pulled out a manila folder from a cabinet drawer from behind him. He put them all in and handed the folder to me.

"Everything's in there; the tickets, the itinerary, office numbers, etc. Call me if you need anything."

"Thanks."

"No, thank you."

I nodded at him.

"Good luck." He said as I left his office.

Damien was still sleeping. I packed up his toys and bottle. I picked him up gently and placed Snow under the arm that curled around my neck.

I stopped at a McDonald's on the way home since I didn't feel like cooking. Damien woke up at the smell of it and started giggling and squealing.

"Didn't you have a nice nap, baby boy?" I looked at him in the rearview and he was as cheesy as always.

"Hunggy! Hunggy!" He chanted.

"Alright, alright," I laughed.

We were home then. Damien, eager as always to eat, decided he wanted to walk up the drive to the door. I grabbed his bag and the food; he had Snow, and followed him to the door. He didn't fall at all or wobble and that made me proud.

We ate in the kitchen. Damien had a ball trying to eat his French fries after I broke them up into smaller pieces so he wouldn't choke. It was amusing watching him eat. It was hard trying to eat my burger and not laugh at the same time.

It was soon eight o'clock. I took Damien upstairs to his room, changed his clothes, and tucked him in his crib. He had a tiring day so I knew he was going to fall asleep easily and quickly. I turned the baby monitor on in his room and smiled at Damien, who was already starting to fall asleep. I went to my room and changed into a wife beater and Joe Boxer bottoms. I hooked the other monitor to my pants and went downstairs.

I had picked up some boxes on the way home so instead of sleeping I started packing.

* * *

**EPOV**

I sat. And sat…and sat…

I stared. And stared...and stared…

It was right there, right in front of me. Right fucking there!

It was what I was waiting for, hoping for, longing for.

And yet…

I couldn't open it.

I couldn't touch it.

I saw it and dropped it on the floor. I sat on the edge of my bed, my head i n my hands. The moonlight streaming in from my balcony glinted off the white envelope.

The black letters glared at me. I could see them whether or not my eyes were closed.

It was so dark in my room … so dark, except for the moon as always.

I felt like crying again. Crying like I had last night. It wasn't the first time and I definitely knew it wouldn't be the last. My hands tightened in my hair, pulled at it, stinging my scalp. I knew it hurt, but I couldn't really feel it. I let out a grunt, almost sounding like an animal in pain. Her letter glared at me. Her elegant, as always, handwriting screamed for me to open it.

_Open me!_

_Open me!_

_Open me, damn it!_

Why now? Why did she decide to come back now? She left me. I knew she was hurting. I knew the kind of pain she had. Hell, I had the same pain!

But she left me.

She didn't have to. We could've mourned together. We could've gotten through the pain together. I didn't want to do this alone but I had to. And I did.

But she still left me.

And I wanted to know why.

Five fucking years.

No contact whatsoever.

And she finally comes back.

I wanted to be angry at her. I wanted to rip the letter up and pretend I'd never seen it. I wanted to go to sleep and not have dreams about her, dreams that had about as much worry in them as I had when I was awake. I want to actually sleep without crying.

But I couldn't.

I loved her too much.

So I picked the letter up off the floor and walked to the balcony. As usual the light breeze blew through my hair. It raised goose bumps on my naked chest and arms. I thought time had stopped while I sat on my bed pondering whether or not I should open my mother's letter. But it didn't. People were still walking the cobbled streets. Cars still drove around and even in the late hour bright lights still shown. I breathed deeply. My hands shook as I turned the envelope over and tore the flap open. I pulled the letter out and read by moonlight.

_My son,_

_I have finally grown the nerve to contact you after five years. I can't tell you how sorry I am for not talking to you sooner. I had some things that I needed to do before I could face you. Five years is a long time to be gone, I know. I know you must hate me for leaving you, especially when you needed me the most but I had to deal with what happened on my own. I also know that you must have a lot of questions for me and I'll answer a few in this letter. But I won't tell you what I've been up to, yet. That is for another time and I will enjoy divulging that information in person._

_Currently, I am in Venice, Italy. I've been living here for the past three years. You will find out why soon. But don't come looking for me. I know you, so don't try anything. I have to tell you that I am so proud of you. I have bought and listened to all the music you've made and they warm my heart. I just knew you'd do something great. Edward told me you were planning something. I didn't know what it was and even now I still don't. Your record label didn't help much. It was just your name. I would've looked it up but I don't get out much and I have no computer._

_I have received all the letters you've sent me and again I can't apologize enough for not speaking to you. But France? Paris, France? I never took you for one that would move to another country. You seemed more like a home bound child, but I guess you couldn't stay in the house either…well, there I go rambling again. Any who, I shall see you soon and don't hesitate to write me back if you refuse my presence or just want to let me know you received my letter. I won't hold it against you._

_All my love, forever and always,_

_Your mother, Elizabeth Masen_

I was in tears before I even finished. I laughed when she said she was rambling. I gasped when she said she was in Venice. The tears came harder w hen she said she listened to my work.

It was like she read my mind with the first few words. My mother always knew what to say. She could always cheer you up, no matter what happened. And she was right. She did leave me when I needed her the most. I'm not sure how long it would take me to forgive her for that but I knew I would…with time.

I looked up at the sky and thanked God for giving me my mother back, somewhat. I found a sheet of paper and wrote 'I love you, Mom' in big letters, signed it, folded it, put it in an envelope and sealed it. I wrote the address and whatnot on it and sat it next to my clock so that in the morning I wouldn't forget to mail it. She'd know what I meant when she got it.

Tonight I cried for a different reason when I went to bed. Instead of pain, I cried for pleasure. Instead of grief, I cried for joy.

I was getting my mother back.

I seem to be doing a lot of crying. I've cried more times in the past five years than in my whole life. It seems like a female thing to do but I could care less. I may be a man but I have emotions and crying was the only way I felt I could get rid of some of the pain. Drowning myself in my music only seemed to numb me from the pain. Crying let me get away from it for a little while.

But still I wanted a cure. I wanted to feel. I wanted to feel something besides the pain and the numbness and the slight hollowness. I wanted to enjoy life and as successful as it was I should've been already. But you can't enjoy something if you lack the emotions to do so.

Sunday was my day off. I was surely put out because I was so eager to mail my letter to mother that when I realized the post office was closed and there wasn't a mailbox within walking distance, my mood was terribly dark.

I would've driven to one but my car was in the shop. Someone crashed into me from behind one day while on the highway. They were speeding and not paying attention. Of course they were paying for all the damage…all three thousand Euros of it too.

"Edward, are you so bored that you decided to hang out in here?"

I groaned.

I was sitting on the bench in the front lobby of my building. Mrs. Long was on a bathroom run. I was keeping her company for a while and she seemed to lighten my dark mood.

But this was too much.

"Victoria," I said. My voice was flat.

She came towards me from the elevator. Her red stiletto clad feet clicked against the stone floor. She had the shortest of mini jean skirts on. If I bent down a little at the right time I'd be able to see what kind of underwear she was wearing—if she was wearing any—and then go on about my business like I didn't see anything.

She had a piece of red cloth going across her boisterous chest that I guess she considered a shirt. The diamond belly button ring she had glinted off the sun and splayed rainbow colors across the floor. Her fiery red hair was curly and fell down her back.

In truth, any man in Paris would gladly drop their pants at the sight of her. But me, I hardly gave her a second look. It screamed disgusting to me. She'd been living in this building a year before I came. She fed off her father's money, she being the daughter of one of the most popular men in the car company business in Europe.

Victoria's been trying to get in my pants for five years. I've considered moving out but this was the closest place to my shop within walking distance and it had the best view.

"Out here all by yourself?" Her voice was like shattering glass even with the French accent.

It hurt my ears sometimes. Okay, all the time.

"I was actually keeping Mrs. Long company, but she went on a bathroom run." I tried to keep my voice as polite as possible.

"That old hag? Pssh. Why don't you keep me company? I'm sure it'd be a lot more fun." Victoria sat herself practically in my lap. Her hands ran up my chest, over my button-up. She slipped two fingers in a hole between two of them. She muttered a few disgusting words in French that made me feel dirty. I gripped her hands as gently as I could since she decidedly pissed me off.

"How about no, I don't want to go anywhere with you and I would appreciate it if you didn't call Mrs. Long those foul names."

I pushed her away from me as Mrs. Long came out of a side door behind the desk.

"Hmm, you have a little anger in you. Qui est si chaud." I cringed as she blew a kiss at me and sauntered off towards the entrance. Her hips shaking in a way that was supposed to be seductive. I shuddered then rolled my eyes and leaned my head back against the wall behind me. She was another reason I wasn't in the building a lot.

"Merci, Edward, cher." Mrs. Long said, her French coming out instead of English.

"For what?"

"Defending me. Sometimes I wonder what her father did to her as a child." She shook her head.

I smiled.

"No problem, Mrs. Long. I don't like her. She disgusts me."

Mrs. Long laughed.

"Edward, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Berta? It makes me feel old."

I laughed, then.

Considering the fact that she was old is what made her statement even funnier. But I'm pretty sure Mr. Long made her feel as young as she wanted to be if you catch my drift.

"How's Mr. Long, Berta?" I asked when I sobered up.

"Oh, he's fine. Still moving like a train if you ask me, but you didn't." She laughed again. "He's working on his golfing skills. I don't know why so don't ask." She knew I was about to ask.

"Hmm," was all I said.

"You know, you're getting a new neighbor." She said after some silence.

"Really?" I looked at her.

"Oui, a lady from, ah, one of those states in the Americas. She works for some major company, I don't know. I received the papers about it yesterday. I'm having Herbert help her move in and whatnot." So Mr. Long was going to help. He did maintenance in the building, kept it going. Of course he had to because he and his wife owned the building. It was their job. I haven't seen him in a while, though.

"When?"

"Oh, sometime this upcoming weekend, I believe. You'll have to ask Herbert. He's checking the apartment, you know, to make sure everything's in order. He should know the exact date."

Another tenant, eh, she's probably either like Victoria only with a job or too stuck up to pull the stick out of her ass to care about anything else but herself.

I hung out with Berta the rest of the day. I left only once to go to the pastry shop to get us something to eat. We talked, had a few laughs and relaxed. It was much needed and I enjoyed myself immensely. I didn't really want to go back to my apartment but I had an early day in the morning. I bid Berta a goodnight, glad that Victoria hadn't come back to throw herself at me again.

I went back to my apartment to find some peace from the pain that decided to make its presence known again.

**Cher- dear**

**Qui est si chaud- That is so hot.**

Did you like it?! Love it?! You have to tell us so!!! hehe. I loved it! Please review and tell us how much you want to see the next chapter!!!


	3. Arriving

**Hello, R4L and LSR here. We're updating again! and R4L's beta, Bella Tonks has come back from her long vacation. And she edited this as soon as she had a chance. We love her and so should you! Lol. Hope you enjoy this chappie!**

_**Disclaimer:**_ **"LSR and R4L own Snow, Damien and Sky and Mr. and Mrs. Long. Oh! and Pierre too. But I own, well you know who I own. Enjoy, lovies!" S.M.**

**Chapter three**

**BPOV**

"I really appreciate your help, Mel. I know it was short notice and a lot of work to be done in a week."

Melanie shook her head as she helped me pack the last few things in Damien's suitcases and mine.

"No problem, Bella. I'm glad to help and with the amount of money you pay me, how could I not?"

We laughed. I did pay her a handful of money for taking care of Damien while I was at work. She was helpful, caring and I knew she'd miss him when we left.

"I'm going to miss him," she sighed. I smiled. "I've gotten so used to him for the past year it seems like he was a permanent fixture."

"I'm sure he'll miss you, too." I smiled at her.

A second later we heard squealing and laughing then light, fast footsteps.

"Momma! Momma! Mel! Mel!" Damien came bursting through the doorway of his room. He'd been walking, running, and occasionally crawling back and forth in the hallways as we packed. One of us would poke our head out the door if he didn't come by it for a long period of time.

We'd find him sitting in the middle of the floor playing with the few toys I'd be able to pack in our carry on, or going to the potty (which he did wonderfully on). Once we found him sprawled about the floor, sleeping, on his stomach of course.

He'd been up earlier than he'd liked to be so he was cranky and stubborn. Then he didn't want to take his bath like he was supposed to. Our flight was leaving in five hours so we had to be up early, packed and ready.

A&M had sent everything I'd packed into boxes to Paris already. It was mainly the T.V., all the movies we had, cooking materials, almost all the furniture in Damien's room save for a dresser he didn't like too much, a few pieces of furniture from the living room and anything else we couldn't fit into our five suitcases and two carry-ons.

The house looked pretty bare. Melanie had let us stay with her and her boyfriend when we ran out of furniture to sleep on. She kept the gate that blocked the stairs; we brought it back when we came to the house to finish packing. Mel planned to take whatever we left because she was moving to a new house and she needed the furniture and on top of that she was expecting. It was practice for her, babysitting Damien. With the way she treated him I knew she'd be a good mother.

Melanie and I packed the last of his clothes in his suitcase. She zipped it up and placed it by the door.

"Yes, baby boy?" I squatted down to his level.

Damien waved Snow in front of him.

"Me an' Shnow hunggy!" He giggled.

Melanie laughed behind him and walked in the direction of my room. Damien turned in her direction but she was gone and he looked at me expectantly.

"Let's wait till Mommy finishes packing, then we can eat."

He pouted, sticking his bottom lip out. He pushed Snow in my face.

"But Shnow wanna eat. Me too!" He whined.

It took all I had not to laugh in his face. He was so adorable.

"Wait a little longer, okay? We'll have pancakes if you do." I knew I was bribing him but I really needed to finish packing; it was getting late.

I saw the light in his big brown eyes glow and he looked thoughtful. He titled Snow towards his face and looked her in the eye. His mouth was moving as if he was having a private conversation with the fluffy white bunny. He took so long that my legs started to hurt, so I sat Indian style. I watched him. After a minute he smiled and looked at me.

"Okay, Momma!" I laughed.

"That's my baby boy." I pulled him towards me and tickled his sides. Damien squealed and laughed and thrashed around in my lap.

"Awe, you guys are so adorable!" Mel's voice came from the doorway. My head shot up and my hands stopped tickling Damien. I held him in my arms, my head resting lightly on his tiny shoulder. His breathing was slightly labored but he was smiling.

"He looks exactly like you, smile and everything! It's so cute. I wonder what the father thinks about you guys." She wondered.

The smile that was on my face fell almost immediately. I grimaced and turned my head to fight back the tears that threatened to fall.

"Damien, go ahead and play with Snow. Mommy and Mel have to finish up." His face met mine in a second.

"An' den we have pa'cates?"

I smiled a small smile and nodded.

"Yes, go on." I kissed his forehead and he ran off.

I sighed. Melanie caught my mood change. I saw her mouth open, ready to ask questions.

"No." My voice was flat. "I don't want to talk about it."

She knew about as much as Davidson did that I was stubborn and a force to be reckoned with. If I didn't want to talk, I didn't and no one could budge me when my mind was made up.

She nodded.

I didn't want to talk about his father. I didn't even want to think about him. He was—

No.

I stopped myself from thinking. I forced myself not to think about anything but what I was doing; packing.

We finished packing up the remaining clothes I had and my toiletries and Damien's. I put a few things in my carry-on and Mel and I took the bags downstairs. I packed Damien's few toys in his carry-on and we went to living room. The house was so empty. I felt a little nostalgia coming on and I hadn't even left the house yet.

We had three hours until the plane left. Mel helped me pack the car. Damien made sure he had Snow and his little bag to take on the plane.

"Thanks, again, Mel. We'll miss you." I hugged her. I felt something move by my leg and then Mel laughed. She let me go and we both looked down to see Damien hugging her leg. She squatted down and hugged him.

"You be good for me, okay? I'll miss you, little guy." She looked close to tears.

Damien nodded his head rapidly.

"I will. I will. Missh you, Mel." Then he shoved Snow in her face. "Shnow say she missh you, too."

Melanie laughed and hugged both of them.

"Well, you best get going. We wouldn't want you to miss your flight." I hugged her again.

"Call me and tell me everything about the doctor's appointment tomorrow. I'd love to hear about it." She was getting her ultrasound done tomorrow. She nodded against my shoulder.

I picked Damien up when she let me go and buckled him into his car seat. He waved as I backed out of the driveway.

"Momma?" Damien called after a minute.

"Yes, Damien?" I glanced at him through the rearview.

"We gonna eat?" I smiled. Boys always want to eat.

"Yes, as soon as we get to where we are going."

He didn't ask where we were going and I had a feeling he wouldn't understand either way.

We were at the airport a half hour later. I pulled against the curb in front of Entrance A. It wasn't busy as it was almost five in the evening. I waved down a man with a luggage cart and he loaded the luggage on his cart that was in my car.

I took Damien out the car. He was talking to Snow and rubbing her fur. I helped him into his Blue's Clues book bag. The man that loaded my luggage told me to wait right there and he'd be back. A moment later he came back with another man.

"Name?" The other man asked.

"Isabella Swan."

He looked through a clipboard he had with him.

"Ah. A&M. Here you go." He handed me a ticket. I looked at him questioningly. "For your car. I'll park it. Don't worry; A&M took care of everything."

Oh. Figures.

He took my keys, placed a sticker on the back window of my car and then drove off. The man with my luggage followed Damien and I as we checked in. A&M had made it mandatory that all upscale employees get passports for reasons such as mine. They even made Damien one. He had quite a cute picture.

I paid the luggage man a few dollars for helping me and he went about his way. The last thing we had to do was go through the metal detectors. There were minimal people there so we didn't have to wait long, but it was a hassle going through because we had to take off our shoes and Damien didn't want to put Snow in the box with the rest of our things.

"Momma, we ridin' tat?" He asked as we walked by a window wall to the gates and restaurants. We could see three huge planes sitting out there. His tiny hand slipped from mine as he walked to the window.

"Yes we are. We'll be up in the air."

"Ta air?" He turned his wide brown eyes on me.

"Yup." I smiled at him.

Damien's little mouth formed an 'o' and he turned his head back to the planes.

"C'mon, baby boy. I promised you pancakes, didn't I?"

He giggled and reached for me, Snow dangling in his hand. I adjusted the bags on my shoulder and picked him up.

I got him some pancakes and myself a turkey sandwich with chips from a place called Ed's Diner that was sandwiched between a McDonald's and Elizabeth's Pizza. We walked to the waiting area near the gate to our plane and sat down to eat. I gave him a bottle and he alternated between eating and drinking.

We finished a while later and I threw our trash away in a trash can across from us. Damien started dozing off on the floor while playing with Snow. I picked him up and let him bury his head in my neck as he made that funny gurgling noise again. I'd have to figure out where he got that from…

Something was shaking my shoulder. I heard a faint voice a second later, and then it got louder.

"Miss? Miss?" The voice was female and the thing that was shaking me was a hand.

I sat up after realizing I'd fallen asleep. I almost dropped Damien when I sat up so fast.

"Miss?" I turned and there was a red-headed woman looking at me.

"Yes?"

"Are you supposed to be on this flight, because we're boarding and we want to make sure we get everyone," she said.

I looked past her and sure enough there were people going through the gate.

"Oh sh—" I caught myself before the whole word came out. My cheeks flamed and I looked towards the lady. "Sorry." I said sheepishly.

The woman smiled.

"It's okay." She walked to the gate where a man was standing, checking people's tickets as they walked through.

I was glad I made Damien put his bag on. It would've been hard trying to get it on him while he was sleeping. I grabbed my bags, threw them on one shoulder, adjusted Damien on my other so he wouldn't fall off and went to the gate.

Fist class was quite nice. It had reclining seats, pillows, blankets, and delicious food. A flight attendant reclined a seat so I could lay Damien down, as he was still asleep. The flight was relaxing with the exception of a bit of turbulence. Damien slept for most of it. He'd wake up, eat, play, go to the bathroom or gaze out the window that was the size of his upper body.

"Momma! Look!" He'd pointed out the window at the 'big whi' puffy stuff'.

The flight attendants gushed over how adorable he was and Damien ate it all up, giggling, squealing, laughing, and introducing Snow whenever they paid him any attention. It was increasingly annoying and I was glad when he was asleep. It gave me a reprieve from the gushing flight attendants.

It was hell trying to catch the next plane. We had to take a merger from Frankfurt, Germany to Paris, France. The airport in Germany was like rush hour on the interstate in Miami, but we made it, barely. The two hour flight didn't do well with Damien, though.

"Eeee' poppin'! Eeee' poppin'!" He kept whining. His ears were popping and I could only imagine what it felt like to him. Mine were popping too but I could chew gum and he couldn't so I gave him a bottle.

There was a man with a sign that read 'SWAN' standing in front of a luggage cart when we headed towards baggage claim.

"Ms. Swan, à partir de A&M?" He asked as I approached him. His French accent was strong.

"Oui," I nodded confirming that I was from A&M. Damien was holding my fingers, oblivious to what was going on around him, as he chattered to Snow.

"Je suis Pierre Jones. Je vais être votre pilote de votre séjour ici. Je crois que c'est l'ensemble de vos bagages?" He said his name was Pierre Jones. It took me a minute to translate the rest because my French was slightly rusty but I knew he said he'd be my driver for my stay here and that he wanted to make sure he had our entire luggage.

I counted the bags and then checked the tags to make sure.

"Oui, ils sont tous là. Et maintenant?" I confirmed that he had all our things and asked him what we'd do next. He smiled.

"Si vous suivez-moi," He gestured with a hand for us to follow him.

I asked him if he spoke any English while we followed him and he nodded.

"Yes, I do. It is hard, you see, 'cause is not my, uh, native language." He was right.

"Which do you feel comfortable with speaking in the most?"

"It does not matter, much. I can speak both pretty good. But I must warn you, my French sometimes is mixed with my English if I speak English. You, uh, understand?"

I nodded.

We made it to some sliding doors and outside awaited a black limo that was no longer than an average limo in the U.S. Pierre loaded the luggage in the trunk which didn't look big enough to fit all our things but he managed.

It was hot, I'd realized, the sun glaring down on the pavement and the car. Pierre looked like he was sweating bullets under the black uniform and hat he wore. I made a mental note to talk him out of wearing that ridiculous uniform. I mean, it wasn't like he was driving around royalty or anything.

The ride was long and Pierre stopped at a McDonald's along the way as Damien got hungry. I wasn't surprised that there was one here in Paris, because really, where wasn't there a McDonald's in this world? The only difference was that you couldn't use credit cards; cash only. I was glad I'd traded a few dollars for Euros before leaving the airport.

Damien gazed out the window at the many historical monuments we passed; the Eiffel Tower, Les Champs Elysees, Notre Dame, and plenty more. If his eyes were any bigger they'd roll out of his head.

After about an hour and a half Pierre turned into a cobblestone road. It was tight between the two tan sun-baked buildings but we fit through. It soon opened out into a wide street where people were walking and small cars and mopeds were flying by.

A few people stared as we passed but otherwise went on about their business. We passed quaint little shops; a pastry shop, a music store that read 'Masen's Musique', an antique shop and some others. I made a mental note to visit Masen's Musique later on.

I was so busy looking out the window that I hadn't realized Pierre was on the phone. He hung up a second later, looked back at me, smiled, and then made a left turn into another small street. We pulled up to a building.

It had 'The Long Building' written in French across the glass doors in elegant script. The building was the same color tan that the quaint shops were and sun baked, too.

There was a small group of four people standing outside the doors.

An old stout man with graying hair that went to his shoulders was smiling at an old woman next to him. I could vaguely see his hand on her back playing with her long gray braid. The woman kissed his check after laughing at something he whispered in her ear.

On their other side was another, younger couple. There was a woman who looked about my age with brown hair much like mine but maybe a tad darker or lighter, I couldn't tell because of the sun glaring down on her, that went a little past her shoulders with bright blue eyes and a soft face that looked like it could warm anyone's heart.

She was standing next a man who had black hair that kind of swooped over his forehead much like Zac Efron, but his looked better. He had the same blue eyes she did except slightly darker and they shined as he looked at her. His dark jeans and blue shirt made him look tall and built and quite delicious if I do say so myself. He must be French to look that hot.

We pulled up right in front them and I could read the black haired man's shirt. It said 'I'm with beautiful' in French and had an arrow pointing towards the woman. The shirt looked bleached and like something out of Hot Topic. He and the woman were holding hands when Pierre opened my door and Damien and I got out.

"Bienvenue, bienvenue!" The old man said happily. The traditional French greeting was given all around.

"You speak English, yes?" I asked them all in French. They all four nodded.

"I'm Herbert Long and this," he smiled at the old woman next to him, "is my beautiful wife, Berta Long. This is our building as you see on the doors." I nodded and he continued. "I've already fixed up your living quarters and placed the furniture in it. If you would like to rearrange anything don't hesitate to let me or Berta know. She's always at the front desk and if you have any other problems with the apartment just let me know and I'll be happy to help."

Herbert smiled a warm smile. His English was impeccable. It surprised me.

"Merci, Monsieur Long." I said gratefully. He guffawed.

"Oh, please, call me Herbert." I nodded.

Damien whined and tugged on the fingers he was gripping. I looked down at him and he reached for me. I picked him up and looked to the couple that hadn't spoken yet.

"I'm Krista. I'll be that little guy's babysitter. He's so adorable!" She smiled at him. "Damien, yes?" She didn't have that French accent like Pierre did. I wondered where she was from.

Damien giggled, waved Snow around and reached for her. I was surprised because Damien didn't take well to new people; people he didn't know. If he didn't like someone he whined and hid his face in my hair or my neck and if he did like someone, which was rare, he giggled like he did to Krista and reached for whoever the person was. It was like he had a people-radar; who he knew he could like and who he knew he couldn't. I found it useful sometimes.

I smiled.

"Well I guess he likes you. That's good." Krista took Damien.

"Why?"

"He doesn't take well to new people, people he doesn't know."

"Ah." She nodded in understanding. Krista bounced him lightly and he giggled again.

"Kisha! Thish ish Shnow! She goesh wiff me to e'erywhere!" Damien introduced his white fluffy bunny. Everyone laughed.

"Hello, Snow. It's very nice to meet you both." Krista tweaked Snow's nose.

"Does he really take Snow everywhere?" She asked me incredulously.

"Yup, everywhere except when he has to go to the bathroom. He won't go anywhere without her. He cries something fierce if he does." She laughed.

"Oh! I almost forgot!" Krista suddenly said. The man beside her had been smiling at her like a man seeing light for the first time and then he rolled his eyes, amused. "This is my boyfriend, Sky." She looped her free arm through his. "He'll be helping me sometimes, not that I need it but he likes to, so I let him. He has another job that he does so you'll see him around."

Krista was rambling and I think she noticed as her cheeks turned a slight pink when she stopped. I thought it was amusing and funny and I had to fight the laugh I wanted to let out. Sky shook his head and looked at me.

"Ms, uh…" Sky started. He hesitated, not knowing my name.

"Bella, just Bella, please," I told him, well everyone since they were all looking at me save for Damien who was talking to Snow again.

"It'll be a pleasure working with you or for you, rather. A&M has filled us all in on everything. You're in good hands." He leaned forward a bit and a playful smile fell over his face. "Don't mind Krista. She tends to go on about crazy things sometimes." He laughed when she lightly slapped his arm.

Sky's voice was strong and deep and coupled with his French accent made it sound alluring. His smile was something that could make any girl swoon. With the way he held himself, he looked like a model from Calvin Klein. Krista was lucky.

I shook his outstretched hand.

"Merci, Sky." I frowned, thinking about his name. "That's an unusual name for a guy…"

Sky's smile faltered a bit and his dark blue eyes went a little darker as they tightened.

"Don't ask. Ma mere did it." His mother? His tone was clipped but gentle, making me think he didn't want to talk about it anymore.

Krista squeezed his arm and he softened his features. He turned his gaze towards her and her lips moved but I couldn't hear what she said. Sky nodded and then kissed her lightly. Damien was distracted so he didn't notice.

It peaked my curiosity but I thought it best not to ask. Whatever it was it was between them. Berta took that moment to speak up.

"Well, Bella, let's get you settled, shall we?" Her accent was thick.

She led the way through the glass doors while Sky, Pierre, and Herbert got the bags from the car. Krista followed us with Damien still chattering on.

We took the elevator up to the fifth floor.

"Herbert has been fixing up this apartment all week. The, uh, other tenant moved and left it a mess. We got him to pay for damages and whatnot but we never knew what he was doing in it. I don't think we want to know either. Your, uh, company made sure everything was in order before you came." Berta chattered on. Her English wasn't as impeccable as Herbert's and she had as hard a time speaking it as Pierre did.

We walked down a hallway that reminded me of those medieval castles with the stone walls and archways. There were wooden doors along the walls but they were so spaced out you'd get lost if you went too far and didn't know your way around.

"You guys have been great, so far. I know it was sort of spontaneous but—" Berta interrupted me with 'tsk, tsk'.

"Nonsense, cher, no worry about it." I smiled and nodded at her when she looked back at me.

Damien seemed to be having a ball talking to Krista.

"Where are you from?" I blurted out.

Krista laughed.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so forward but I realized you didn't have the accent everybody else does and it made me curious and you know curiosity killed the cat." I said.

"No, no, it's okay. I get that sometimes. I'm from Florida. I moved here with my dad when I was five after he got out of the military."

"Where in Florida?"

"Tampa. Born and raised for five years."

"Hmm," was all I said.

Krista then laughed at something Damien said.

Berta finally stopped walking after we passed two doors on the left and two doors on the right. The door read 507 in gold. Berta took out a set of three keys. She unlocked the top and bottom locks with one.

"Here we are dearies." She said.

The apartment was beautiful and spacious. It explained why the doors were so far apart.

There was the living room as soon as you walked in. Herbert had placed my couches in a nice manner around it with the coffee table in the center and the entertainment center in front, along a stone wall. Past the living room was a step up and on the right was a den that had ceiling to floor windows where I could see the Eiffel Tower and the Sienne River. On the left was a dining room with my table and chairs set up already.

I walked further past that and saw a full kitchen with an island in the middle and two stools to sit on. My kitchen accessories and whatnot were already put away as I checked the cabinets and drawers. There was a dishwasher and a double sink. It was nice.

There was an opening on the other end of the kitchen that led out the den so you could walk in a circle around the one level. When I met Berta in the living room she gestured to two glass doors I hadn't seen when I walked around the first time.

I opened those and saw my bedroom, almost as it had been at my house but again the walls were stone and they weren't cold, quite warm actually. And the bathroom was on my right instead of my left. The balcony was on the left where I could again see the Eiffel Tower.

The door next to my bathroom was a walk-in closet and then there were three steps to another room next to my closet. That room had Damien's furniture in it. His window didn't have as good a view as mine did but it was enough. All his furniture was set up close to the same way it was at the house.

"Berta, this is—I don't know what to say." I told her when I got back to the living room. She smiled.

"Don't say anything. We just hope you enjoy your stay here."

"Oh, I will."

Krista was walking around with Damien holding her fingers. It looked like they both were taking a tour of the apartment.

"Oh, I almost forgot. There is second room behind door in between kitchen and den. That's an extra room or a bigger room. You could use it for when Damien gets to be a big boy if you stay long enough. I knew the other room is so small." Berta said.

I hadn't even noticed a door there. That room was empty. It was pretty big and I could see Damien moving into that room when he got a little older.

I heard some footsteps and voices and then Pierre and Herbert came through the still open door with Sky not far behind. They dropped the bags behind the couch. I rushed up to Herbert and hugged him.

"Thank you so much. It looks almost like my house back in Florida. I was scared you'd gone and done something hideous." He laughed and I pulled back some.

"It was no problem. Besides it's all about the happy tenants, oui?"

I nodded and laughed.

"Momma!" My head whipped around so fast I thought I popped something. Damien was running towards me, his arms stretched out, smiling. I scooped him up when he reached me.

"Hey, baby boy. Do you like it?" I smiled at him.

He nodded enthusiastically. "Yay, momma!"

"Did you see your room?"

Damien's brown eyes widened and he shook his head. I looked towards Krista. She was smiling at us.

"He wanted to see you after he finished gawking out the window at 'the bi' poin'y thingy'." She did air quotes on the last part. I laughed. It sounded like him. My guess was that he was looking at the Eiffel Tower.

"Why don't you go see it with Krista, okay? Mommy has to finish up here." He nodded and then reached for Krista.

She took him and Berta led her to my room.

"Is that everything?" I asked the gentlemen.

"Oui, it is." Pierre answered. "Will that be all?"

"No, Pierre. I need to talk to you about something. Could you stay for a minute?" He nodded.

I turned to Sky. "What is your other job, if you don't mind my asking?"

He smiled that charming smile again. "I work on cars. Well, I sometimes design them but I like to fix them more than I design them. I can rebuild them or fix them up, you name it."

My eyebrows rose.

"Really?"

"Oui. Krista says I should talk to someone who can help me start my own, uh, company? Oui, company or something along those lines." He shook his head as if dispelling the thought and scratched the back of his neck. He looked nervous for a second.

I smiled. "Anything else?"

"Well, uh, I make my own shirts." He gestured to the shirt he was wearing. "I sometimes sell them in the streets. I have a permit to, uh, what's the word?... ah…" He trailed off.

"Vend?" I suggested.

"Oui, oui! I do it mostly during the tourist season like now since it is June. Sometimes during any outside event that's going on and if I don't have to work at the shop or if I'm not helping Krista."

"I see. Well, if you really want it I might be able to get you a connection." I knew a lot of people who were looking to make money off of new car designs.

Sky's blue eyes lit up and his charming smile was back. "Really?"

I nodded.

"I'll get you my portfolio soon."

"Okay, then."

"Well, if that is all, tell Berta I will be at the front desk. She will give you your keys to the apartment and mailbox." Herbert smiled and left.

"Bella…" I turned to Pierre.

Sky made his way to my room I guess following the sounds of the female voices and boyish giggles.

"Okay, Pierre. I want to talk to you about this ridiculous uniform…" I said firmly.

He looked surprised. "My uniform?"

"Oui, I noticed you sweating like you ran a triathlon when you picked us up from the airport. So from now on don't wear that uniform. Wear something you feel comfortable with and will let you breathe. I'd really prefer not to have you have a heatstroke and we've just met."

Pierre's face flushed slightly. "Oui, madame."

"You go change into something comfortable and come up when you get back. I'd like to go food shopping since there's no food here and I'm sure you know where I can get a few things…"

He nodded and smiled.

"Good, good. Go on then." He left.

A minute later Sky, Krista, Berta and Damien came back into the living room.

"Your son is a special one. If I had a son like that…" Berta trailed off shaking her head. She had a wistful look on her face.

"No kids?" I asked.

"No. Herbert and I traveled too much to have kids and then I found out I was sterile…"

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"No worry, dear. I'm fine."

"Does he usually talk so much?" Sky asked. He was holding Damien and he picked and played with his black hair mumbling something.

I nodded. "Usually, when he gets attention and when he's around people he feels comfortable with."

"He'll be a handful but I think we can take him." He said. Krista nodded, smiling.

"Here are your keys. There's two to the room and one to the mailbox. They are right next to the front desk on the right. Yours is the number on your door. If you need an extra key made just find Herbert, ou moi."

I took the keys from Berta, thanked her again, and told her Herbert was at the front desk. She left.

Sky, Krista, Damien and I took a seat on the couch.

"Well, I'll make copies of my itinerary so you know when to baby sit Damien. He likes you both so much already so it won't be a problem leaving him with you guys. Do you have phones?"

They nodded and simultaneously pulled phones from the back pockets of their jeans. It was the same phone, sidekicks, but Sky's was black and Krista's was blue.

"Well, here's my number and office number in case anything happens."

They put it in their phones and we sat there for a minute reading the papers I got before I left Miami. There was a knock on the door.

"It's open!" I yelled.

I went over a few more things with the couple while whoever it was at the door came to the living room.

"Bella, are you ready?" Pierre's voice came from behind me.

I nodded absently.

I looked over to Damien who had taken to playing with his toys he brought out from his trunk in his room.

"Hey, Damien?" His brown eyes found mine instantly.

"Mommy's going to go get some food, okay? Do you want to go?" He looked so engrossed in playing with his toys that I wasn't sure whether or not he wanted to go anywhere, but I doubted it because he hasn't been stationary much in the past fourteen hours.

"NO! I wanna shtay wi' Kisha and Shky and Shnow!" I laughed.

"Okay, then. Pancakes when I get back?"

He nodded his little head rapidly. Sometimes I got real worried when he did that. It seemed unnatural.

"Well, his things are in these bags, at least enough food and such to keep him from complaining. I'm guessing you already know where his movies and toys are…"

Sky and Krista nodded. I kissed Damien's head and he smiled before talking to Snow again.

"Be back later, guys." I headed out with Pierre by my side. He'd changed into some nice cargo pants and a button down white shirt. "Much better, Pierre, much better,"

"Merci," He smiled.

"You don't live far from here, do you? It didn't take you that long to come back…" He shook his head.

"I live a few, uh, twists and turns from here. I show you someday. You meet my wife."

"You are married?"

"Oui, but only about a year, not long as you see."

I shook my head. We reached the elevator and he pressed the down button. The doors opened a second later and my breath caught.

A man with broad wide shoulders, bronze hair and pale skin stood in it. He had what looked to be a biker's jacket thrown over his shoulder. He looked up at me and his piercing green gaze wouldn't let mine go.

I saw such sorrow and pain in them before he masked it with indifference or more like something numb. I couldn't be sure. He sneered at me before his face became expressionless. He shouldered past me and Pierre looked ready to say a few choice words when I stopped him by pulling him into the elevator.

I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. I had the urge to figure out what was wrong with him and why he sneered at me but something was telling me not to.

Something was warning me that that was a bad idea.

Something told me that talking to that man could either break what was left of me or make something of the rest of me.

**Did you like? Let us know! R4L's beta loves Damien. She wants three of him. Any favorite characters so far?**

**~R4L and LSR~**


	4. Lost and Found Control

Hi all! We're sorry for updating late but we're updating now at least! We hope you've had a nice day and enjoy the chapter! Please don't forget to review, we love them and it helps us type up new chapters! We would like to thank **BellaTonks**, R4L's beta for betaing this chapter also!

_**Disclaimer:**_ "Hey all! You guys should know who owns who by now! I hope you enjoy this awemazastic chapter from these awemazastic authors! Enjoy!"~SM

**EPOV**

My week has been shitty. As usual, I worked. I had three house calls and a call from one of the most famous theatres in Paris. They asked me to fix their two grand pianos because they had a major concert to do and they wanted them in top shape, plus their regular guy relocated to England. They paid me five grand; quick money to me, really.

I sent the letter to my mother but I haven't gotten a reply yet. I did wonder, though, why she didn't just call me. I mean she wrote that she got all my letters and I knew I put my contact information in all of them. It may not be safe but you'd do anything for your family if you loved them as much as I did.

I decided not to dwell on it too much. I might cause myself pain, not that I didn't bath in it every day…

The shop working on my car said I could pick it up around eleven on Sunday, which was tomorrow. I felt slightly better about that since I abhorred public transportation.

I had bought Berta her chocolate pastry yesterday after I closed the store. Surprisingly, Herbert was with her when I walked in the doors. He looked tired, as if he'd been working non-stop for days (upon which I have no doubt), but happy as he stared at Berta. She looked like a school girl under his gaze.

They were a lovely couple but with the way he was looking at her and the way she was smiling, I didn't want to think about what they'd been doing all day. Though, I'm sure I had a pretty good idea.

"Comment allez-vous?" I asked how their day was as I walked to the front desk. It was out of habit that I always greeted them in French.

"Très bien, Edward. How was your day?" Berta asked.

"It was fine. One of my students finally passed all my lessons. She's starting high school in the fall. I also got a house call from the guy that owns the Wiltshire Estate in the hills. He had me fix three grands for four thousand. He said something about a dinner party, I don't know. But I got a call from the Paris Grande Theatre. They paid me five for their two grands. I made a handful of money this week. Must be something going on for me to get all these house calls and such."

"Well, it's good for business." She said. Then she giggled and Herbert kissed her neck.

I rolled my eyes. They always acted like newlyweds and at first I found it odd that it didn't disgust me because they were old, but I got used to it; they were like second parents to me with the way they've taken care of me since I've been here.

"Not really." I said dully.

"Why not?" Herbert spoke that time.

My mood shifted from amusement to annoyance.

"It's been hell trying to get to these places without my car." I groaned remembering taking the bus to the theatre and the train and a cab to the Estate. The pushing, shoving, yelling and angry remarks of people in the streets were unbelievable. It gave me a headache almost every day.

"Buy another one." They said simultaneously. I cocked an eyebrow.

"Oui, I could but I _like_ my Volvo."

Herbert rolled his eyes.

"Edward, son, obviously you are miserable without it and you hate public transportation. You don't even have to buy a car. Buy a moped or a motorcycle. It'll calm your bitching and make everyone happy." I resisted the urge to flip him the bird. I knew how blunt he could be and he could see right through me sometimes.

"Edward, cher, we've known you for five years. You are like a son to us and you are as easy to read as a traffic sign on the highway and we know you." I grimaced but she continued. "Buy a motorcycle, it will do you good. You would look like a, how you say…geek, oui, a geek, on a moped."

We all laughed.

"Merci, Berta." The sarcasm level was in the clouds when I answered.

"So, are you going to greet the new tenant on Sunday? She is moving into the apartment right across from yours." Berta asked after a minute.

I shrugged. They carried on their evening and I went to sleep.

I took the Long's advice and visited dealerships in between and after the lessons I taught today and seeing as it was a Saturday I had plenty of time. Even though I knew I could get my car back tomorrow, I always wondered what it'd be like to ride a motorcycle…

I found out I had to get a motorcycle license at the first dealership I went to and that didn't take me long, only an hour. I checked out a few more before I saw the bike that I wanted.

It was a sleek black '08 black Suzuki Hayabusa. I didn't think they sold those in Europe. The dealer told me it was one of the best and fastest motorcycles in '08. It could go a fourth of a mile in less than four seconds. That was fast enough for me. He explained the laws for people with motorcycles and such, but I already know them from taking the test to get my license.

I intended to follow them too, especially the one about wearing a helmet while riding (I didn't like the idea of losing my head in a traffic accident although it sounded quite intriguing as a reprieve from the pain I endured everyday) but that was after I felt the wind blowing in my hair, on my face as I zoomed by cars and mopeds and pedestrians. What a rush!

I did all of that and I damn sure enjoyed it, that was until I got fined a hundred euro for riding without my helmet. Apparently, riding a motorcycle without a helmet in Europe was like going twenty-five over the speed limit without a seatbelt on the highway in the states and getting caught. Yes, that bad.

I knew I was safe from getting a speeding ticket because, I mean, the speeds in Europe were ridiculously fast. There practically weren't any real speed limits. It was why my cars didn't work too well when I first came here. I called the shop to tell them to have someone bring my car to me since I couldn't very well ride the motorcycle and drive the car simultaneously.

It was a Saturday night and I had nothing to do, not that I wanted something to do, I was just…bored. There's no other word for it. I walked to the kitchen and fixed myself something to eat. I didn't even know why I was eating when I wasn't really hungry and it was currently–I looked at my watch—half past midnight.

I sighed.

I wasn't sure why I suddenly felt so bored and…_lonely_. For the longest time the Longs' had been telling me I needed to get a nice girl and bring her home. I'm not sure their definition of home and my definition of home were the same. But either way no one's ever been in my apartment save for the Longs'.

But I had a reason why I never brought anyone home. I had a reason why I was still single. Even after all these years the reasons are still the same.

In high school, girls went after my money or my looks, or sometimes even both and I hated it with a passion. I never met a girl who was even worth having a two second conversation with. They were all shallow and dimwitted.

Then I went to college. I met one girl, Tanya, and she was worth talking to. She was smart and beautiful with her strawberry blond hair and bright blue eyes and a body that half the girls I knew in college envied her for.

We dated for a year, in happiness, before I found out some particularly _interesting_ things about her. And I don't mean interesting in a good way, either.

She came up to me one day with tears in her eyes. I sat her down on a park bench because I was on my way to class that day and she spilled everything. It destroyed the relationship we had. Well, according to her story it never really was a relationship, more like manipulation and betrayal.

It was a complete waste of a year in my life. And I had had enough even then. Not knowing where my mother was…

And my father…

Tanya told me she made a bet to see how long it would take to bed me (three months) and when she succeeded she'd get $500 plus cheats for a few classes she was taking that she was failing. But, wait! That's not all. When I recovered from the shock of that she then proceeds to tell me that she was doing three other guys behind my back for the same purposes.

She said she loved me.

_Bull shit._

Yeah, sure, she loved me.

In her dreams.

I stood from the bench and walked away without a word or glance back. I haven't seen or heard from her since and I don't plan to, ever. I told myself not to cry tonight. I told myself not to focus on the pain or numbness flowing through my body.

I needed something to distract me, anything to distract me. It was too late for me to go to Berta and I knew no one else I could talk to. I didn't feel like working on pianos or writing music or even standing out on my balcony as I usually did. I thought about something I hadn't done in almost six years…

I wasn't completely sure I wanted to do it or not but my brain decided it wanted to do something else tonight. And even though my body and heart were telling me not to, my brain was wearing my down.

"Fuck it," I muttered under my breath.

I gave in.

I threw on some jeans and a t-shirt, grabbed my leather jacket, keys and helmet and headed for my motorcycle. It was parked next to the building.

The streets were dark (there weren't street lights) and close to empty. I rode with my helmet on but it was pushed up so it sat sort of on top of my head. The sharp wind blew across my face and stung my eyes. I welcomed it. It was distracting.

I stopped at a bar after riding for a few hours. The bar wasn't full or loud and I was grateful. I couldn't take a lot of noise right then. I sat down on a stool at the counter and asked the bartender for a triple shot of vodka. My throat was dry and even though I knew it wouldn't help much I needed something in my mouth…

I don't remember a woman, scantily dressed with black hair coming up to me. I don't remember taking her for a ride on my motorcycle. I don't remember groping her in the elevator of my building. I don't remember slamming her roughly into my apartment door after I kicked it shut. I don't remember us ridding each other of our clothes, trying to make it to my bedroom.

I don't remember picking her up and throwing her on my bed. I don't remember kissing her wildly or entering her without preamble. I don't remember her screams, her moans, her nails clawing my back. I don't remember her tightening around me or releasing in the condom I managed to pull on in the midst losing clothing.

I don't remember her falling asleep tangled up in my sheets. I don't remember standing out on my balcony replaying in my head what I'd just done…

I felt slender arms wrap around my waist from behind. I didn't know how long I was out there but the sun was slowly coming up over the buildings I could see. I felt lips on my shoulder blades. I didn't respond and neither did the woman, Linda was her name.

When the sun was finally up Linda's hands slowly started to move down. I grabbed her hands and turned around to face her, her hands held tightly in mine.

"Come back to bed," her gray eyes gazed into mine and her voice was soft. It would've been attractive had I been looking to keep her around.

I shook my head.

"No, not now. I have a busy day." Lie.

"Just a few minutes," She pleaded.

"No," I told her firmly. "I have to go and so do you."

She stared at me for a minute before nodding.

Ten minutes later with a small 'call me' and a kiss, she was gone. I knew I wouldn't call her.

I took a long, much needed shower and when I came out of the bathroom and looked at my clock; it read eight a.m. It was still early and I virtually had nothing to do today. But one thing I knew was that I wasn't going to sit in.

I was closed in enough, in my own body. I didn't want to spend the day crying because the pain was too much or because my brain decided it wanted to be against me and forced my body to do something it would regret later…

I felt like composing but there was nothing motivating me and didn't want to compose something depressing. Mrs. Long would hurt me…

I knew the Longs' would be knocking on my door, trying to get me to greet the new tenant and frankly, I didn't want to. My thoughts on her would still be sour; snotty with a stick up her ass as she looked down her nose at everyone else.

So I took a ride.

I rode through the streets—helmet on this time—and damn it if I didn't enjoy it. I stopped by the store to work on a few pianos, just to get my hands dirty. I felt better when I got back. I checked my mail hoping against hope that there was something from my mother there.

Nothing.

I sighed, ran a hand through my already fucked up hair and glanced out the glass doors I'd just walked through.

Huh.

I hadn't noticed that limo parked across the street. It must be that woman's. She must be here already. No wonder there's anyone at the front desk. I pulled my jacket off and held it over my shoulder and pressed the 'up' button for the elevator. It came a moment later and Mrs. Long stepped out.

"Hello, dear," she said with a smile. Something shined in her eyes that I couldn't identify. Somehow it worried me and excited me at the same time. She kissed my cheek, which was a feat for her because I was a whole head and a half taller than her and I didn't bend down.

I stood there, frozen, while she scampered off to the front desk with a 'Herbert'. As I stepped into the elevator I heard him call out 'Love'. I pressed the button for the fifth floor. My hands itched to do something, anything. I wanted to compose but nothing came to mind.

I worked on a few pianos at the store earlier, but that only seemed to satiate my hands for a small while. I sighed. This turned my mood sour again. It was a fairly beautiful day and my mood just had to be horrible.

The elevator _dinged_ and stopped. The doors opened. I was ready to bolt to my room but the people in front of me stopped me in my tracks.

The man didn't hold my attention, though, not even for a second. I was surprised I even noticed him.

It was her.

The woman standing next to him.

The angel.

My mind went blank for the first time in five years. I lost control of my emotions and for the first time I felt nothing. _Nothing_.

There was no pain or numbness. There was no sense of dread or sadness. There was just…nothing.

Her wavy brown hair, bright brown eyes, soft pink lips and—

The list could go on…

My brain worked against me. My control was gone. I didn't know what to do. It was unsettling. I _always_ knew what to do when I lost control, when the reserve of my emotions was broken.

But one look from _her_ and I was turned mush.

I couldn't take it. My mind was already down and losing control of my emotions _was not_ helping any.

So I did the typical thing.

I twisted my face into a sneer.

I glared at the angel and then I was overwhelmed with the urge to run. I shouldered past her before my mouth could open and say something that wasn't supposed to come out, pushing her into the man she was standing next to. The man was about to say a few words to me by the look on his face when I shoved her, but I turned my back and prepared to tune him out.

But the words never came.

The elevator _dinged_ and I heard the swish of the doors as they closed.

I took a glance back at the spot where the angel stood and sighed. I shouldn't have sneered or pushed her like that, but isn't it natural to retaliate in anger when you lose control of something that you've had under control for five years?

Berta's shining eyes flashed in my head for a moment as I opened my door. I leaned my head against the door when I closed it. I counted to ten and took a few deep breaths.

Now, I'm ready to play. I had my inspiration.

I needed to get my control back.

I walked to the back of my apartment to a door between the kitchen and the den. This room was my recording studio. I had a piano and a soundboard put in it and a few other things. Herbert helped me sound proof the room so as not to disturb others and so that there wouldn't be any unwanted outside noises when I recorded. When it was quiet I could hear everything outside the room.

I grabbed a fresh notebook from a bookshelf against the wall next to the door. I pulled a pencil from a cup on the bookshelf and started writing notes.

Twenty minutes later I had five completed compositions. That was the first time I'd ever written so much in so little time.

And it was about one person…

I placed the book on the stand as I sat at my piano. I'd set up the recording system so it would record as I played.

My fingers were poised on the keys when there was a knock on my door. I sighed and went to answer it.

"Sky?" I was surprised to see him. I hadn't seen him since I put my car in the shop three weeks ago. I glanced behind him and noticed the door open right across from mine. "What are you doing here?"

"Mr. Masen, I—"

"Sky, please call me Edward. We're practically the same age." I interrupted him. I didn't like it when he called me that; it reminded me too much of my father.

He nodded.

"Edward, I was coming tell you that your car is here. I would've delivered it myself but I had another job to attend to." He paused and then pulled his sidekick from his back pocket. He flipped it open and I guessed his was texting as he thumbs looked like they were moving.

A second later he turned back to the open door and a woman poked her head out. Her blue eyes were much the same as his and they were shining too as she looked at him. She waved at me and I nodded in response.

"Alright, Kris," he said.

She nodded and then I heard a sound, much like childlike giggling.

"Krisha!" I heard what sounded like a little boy yell.

"Sorry about that," Sky apologized. "My girlfriend and I are babysitting. It's really her job but I help and I need the extra money." He scratched the back of his neck.

"Did you guys move in there?"

"No, it's our boss's home. She just arrived a few hours ago. She left with her driver to go food shopping not too long ago."

I heard some more childish squealing and then some laughing.

"She has a child?" The Longs' didn't tell me this. I wonder if they even knew at all.

"Yes, her n—"

"Sky!"

He was interrupted by a female's voice. I assumed it was his girlfriend, Kris.

"One second, Edward." His eyes were panicked and he held up one finger as if to tell me to wait.

I waved a hand dismissively and he bounded off, reaching the door across the hall in two strides.

"Kris?" I heard him call frantically.

I shook my head. Sky seemed too frantic and too scared and too worried all at the same time. You'd think she was screaming bloody murder or something.

The other door closed after a few minutes.

I stood there staring at the door, the gold numbers reading; 507. Maybe that was where—no, she couldn't live there. Not that angel. She didn't look old enough to have any kids to take care of. Maybe I shouldn't think that. It was quite bitter if I really thought about it. But then I had a different thought.

The door opened again and a cheerful looking Sky stepped out. I internally frowned at his rapid mood changes but then I thought about myself…

"Sorry about that." He apologized again.

I nodded.

"Your car's all good, now. It's clean, too. Worked on it myself, body and engine. I know how you are when it comes to that."

I nodded again.

He did know. Sky's worked on the past few cars I've had. I kept burning out the engine because I tended to drive fast and the cars I've had couldn't handle it. I was never one to fix cars so I had to find someone else to do it and Sky was the right guy for the job.

The only thing I could do was check the oil and refill the antifreeze. Sky laughed when I told him that. I've known him for almost four years, now, though I didn't know he had a girlfriend. He seemed too reserved for a relationship but then what do I know?

"So, uh, was that her that left earlier, with the brown hair?" I asked, trying not to seem nosy.

"Oui, she'll be back soon though."

So it _was_ her!

"What's her name?" My voice was a little too on edge.

Sky cocked an eyebrow then he jumped slightly and pulled his phone from his back pocket again. He flipped it open and sighed.

"Her name's Bella, Edward. I have to go. Duty calls."

"Merci," I said.

Sky went back to the room.

_Bella._

Bella.

It means beautiful in Italian. And she was more than just beautiful.

Damn, I needed to write again.

Two hours, twenty-five sheets of paper, three broken pencils and a frustrated growl later, I was done.

The perfect song.

The perfect melody.

_Her_ song.

_Her_ melody.

Bella's lullaby.

Maybe she was too grown to have a lullaby. Maybe the song was too…I don't know.

I looked over the song again for the millionth time. I listened to it again for the millionth time.

It was perfect to me but I hoped she liked it.

But then she wouldn't talk to me, not now. Not after I sneered at her and pushed her. What a first impression! Maybe I should go apologize. That sounded like a good idea. I suddenly felt insecure, really insecure just thinking about approaching her. I've never felt so insecure in my life and I'm a grown man!

It's ridiculous. I can't talk to her, now. She probably hates me.

Mrs. Long would know what to do in a situation like this. I walked to my door, intent on finding Berta so I wouldn't curl into a ball and cry like I usually did in all my misery and self-bashing. I wanted—no, _needed_ to talk to someone.

I opened my door and froze mid-step.

She was there.

The angel.

_Bella._

Her brown eyes were staring into mine. I almost closed the door in her face but I couldn't seem to get my body to move. She held my gaze and never once did it falter. Then her soft pink lips parted and she spoke.

"Salut."

* * *

Liked it? Loved it? I definitely loved it!!!! PLEASE review and tell us what you think of it! Reviews help us come up with great ideas!

~LSR & R4L


	5. Tension

**Hello to all. As you can see we are still alive! We apologize for not updating in forever but R4L had a crapload of work to do! And LSR has been busy as well. But we're back now. R4L is graduating high school next saturday!Bazinga! LOL. But we'll shut up now and tell you more at the end. Read people.**

_**Disclaimer:"I own. R4L and LSR own a family of twelve cyber bunnies who they love to death. Read people. That's an order. And please review!" S.M.**_

**Chapter 5**

**BPOV**

Pierre showed me different shops within a five mile distance from the apartment. Some, I could walk to, others I would have to get a ride to. I was thinking about getting a car. Pierre didn't need to drive me everywhere. We went to a few stores and bought loaves of bread, some cheeses, fruits, vegetables, and meats.

It was so different going grocery shopping here. It wasn't like going to the Super Wal-Mart or Sam's Club like in Miami. The stores here all had different names, too many for me to remember them all, but some sold the same things, others sold completely different things.

If I named them all I'd probably be able to write a book or something.

Pierre also showed me some sights as he had my schedule so he knew when to pick me up and drop me off, he knew that I was going to be a whole lot busy this week. He drove by the Eiffel Tower, across the bridge that Princess Diana supposedly died on, and a French high school that looked more like a castle than a school.

There were boats on the Sienne River filled with people eating lunch, a few tourists, or people just altogether enjoying their selves as it was a nice hot day.

By the time we got back to the apartment it was close to four in the afternoon. I hoped that Damien wasn't too much trouble for Sky and Krista. It was the first day.

"Wow, Pierre. I never knew there were so many stores here."

"Oui, Bella. And this is only a small part of Paris."

We grabbed the bags from the trunk and headed into the building. When we got off the elevator I suddenly remembered the man that sneered at me. No doubt, he was beautiful. I couldn't deny that but really, what did I do to have him sneer and push me the way he did? Pierre wanted him to apologize but I didn't want him to get in any trouble with that man. I didn't know him or what he would do so I couldn't let him take that chance.

I sighed heavily, not knowing what to do. I knocked on my door awkwardly because my hands were full then Sky opened it a second later.

"Salut, Sky. How was he?"

"Oh! He was an angel. We had no problem at all, though one time I had to get Sky to help me catch him because he got away when I tried to fix him something to eat. I almost cut myself with a knife!" Krista said, standing from the couch. I don't think she took through that whole thing. Sky smiled. I took the bags to the kitchen while Pierre and Sky went to get the rest.

"He's sleeping, now. Tired himself out after running around for a while."

"You did put him on his stomach, right?" I asked, remembering not telling her about it earlier.

"I did, after he refused to sleep on his back. He kept whining and rolling over. I thought something was wrong until Sky just put him on his stomach. It was all quiet then. It's the simplest things sometimes…" She shrugged.

"Sorry about that. I should've told you earlier, I just didn't expect to be gone that long. Damien never liked sleeping on his back even when he was born."

"It was no problem at all. I'll remember that next time."

We put the rest of the things in cabinets, drawers, the fridge and the freezer.

"That's everything." Pierre said as he and Sky brought the rest in.

"Merci, Pierre," I said.

"Well, if that's all, I'll see you tomorrow morning," He said heading to the door.

"Bye," I waved.

I turned to Sky and Krista in the living room. I handed them each fifty euros.

"Bella, we don't w—"

"It's just for today. I didn't think I'd need you guys today but I did, so, thank you."

"You're very welcome," Krista said. Sky nodded.

"I believe you'll be paid every Friday?" They nodded.

"Well, okay, then. Do you have a copy of my schedule and everything?"

"Oui, Bella, everything's set." Krista said.

"Merci. See you tomorrow."

I closed the door softly as they left. For some reason I felt drained. It must've been all the walking I did with Pierre and the plane ride. I walked to Damien, still sleeping on the couch and kissed his forehead. I picked Snow up off the floor and picked Damien up. I laid him down in his bed and turned on the baby monitor I found in the drawer. Sometimes he'd wake up crying and I'd have no idea why. I grabbed the other monitor and walked to the kitchen and made myself a snack.

After I ate I hooked up my laptop and read over the plan for tomorrow. There was a knock at the door a few minutes after I had my plan for tomorrow ready.

"Berta?"

The old woman was standing in my doorway, smiling.

"Salut, ma cher. I was just coming to see if you were all good and settled. Herbert would've come but he was preoccupied with something."

I smiled at her generosity.

"Everything's fine. Pierre took me shopping to stock up on food and whatnot, so I'm fine, thank you."

"How's that son of yours?"

"He's fine. He's sleeping."

"He seemed like a handful earlier. How did Sky and Krista do?"

"Great, actually. Damien loves them, especially Krista."

"That's good."

We stood there a minute and I wasn't sure if I should invite her in. She didn't look like she was staying. Then I remembered that man again. Funny how he seemed to always pop in my head when I least expect him to. Maybe Berta would know something about him…

"Berta, do you know a man that lives on this floor? He's kind of tall with green eyes and messy weird colored hair."

Her face lit up.

"Oui! I do know him. Edward, his name is. He's such a dear. I wonder why I haven't seen him all day…" She looked lost in thought for a minute while she tried to figure out why she hadn't seen him then she remembered I was standing there. "Cher, why do you ask?"

"Oh. I just saw him earlier today. He was…quite rude." I said remembering what happened for the millionth time today.

"Really?" Berta looked shocked.

"Well, yes."

"He's not usually that way, I assure you. He must've been having a bad day. I apologize for him. He's usually a nice boy. I'll tell you what." She said, suddenly happy. "He lives right there." She pointed to the door across from mine. I could feel my eyes grow wide. "If you go visit him and tell him I said to apologize, I'm sure he'll do it."

"Oh no," I said shaking my head. "It's not that important, Berta, really."

She scoffed.

"Nonsense. Tell him if he doesn't, I'll tell Victoria that he likes her." She wiggled her eye brows.

I laughed. I couldn't refuse Berta. I had a feeling she'd get me to do it somehow, someway. And who was this Victoria person?

"Thanks, Berta," She walked to the elevator and got on.

I could feel the blood rushing in my ears. I suddenly felt shy and nervous. I didn't know why and that bothered me because I hardly ever got shy and nervous. With the job I had, how could I? I talk to groups of people every day, gave presentations and proposals on a daily basis.

Ugh!

Maybe if I talk to him for a few minutes, get him to apologize then this feeling will go away and everything will be normal.

I checked on Damien and slipped the baby monitor in my back pocket before taking a deep breath and going across the hall. I knocked on his door. I heard no movement for a minute. I was about to knock again when the door opened.

And there he was.

He looked tired, like he was working on something nonstop for hours on end and refused to eat or sleep. His green eyes widened in what looked to be shock as he looked at me. He looked ready to slam the door in my face but he didn't and for some reason I was glad and a small smile touched my lips.

"Salut," I greeted him softly. My voice was a whisper and I wasn't even sure he heard it but then he blinked, his handsome face becoming slightly guarded as if he didn't want me to see his true feelings.

"Hi," He said. I had to stop myself from shuddering as the sound of his velvet voice washed over me.

"I'm Bella. I believe we met earlier, on the elevator."

He looked nervous suddenly and raised a hand to run it through his hair. He chuckled without humor.

"I'm Edward. Sorry about earlier. I was…having a bad day."

Why did it seem like there was so much more to it than that? I wanted to ask but I didn't think I'd get any answers.

"It's fine. I was beginning to think I was unwanted." I smiled jokingly.

Edward's eyes widened some but his face stayed indifferent.

"Um, would you like to come in?"

He moved to the side some and I walked in. His apartment was much the same as mine or at least the layout was. It was surprisingly neat for a guy. I took a seat on the couch and he sat in the chair adjacent to me.

"You're lucky, you know."

He cocked an eyebrow. "How?"

"I talked to Berta. She was wondering why she hadn't seen you all day. When I told her I'd seen you and what happened at the elevator she told me to tell you to apologize or she'd tell Victoria that you liked her."

I didn't know who this Victoria was but it seemed to catch his attention because his eyes bugged and a few curses slipped from his lips in French. I raised my eyebrows.

"…evil old woman…" I heard him mutter in between the French.

"Edward?"

His green eyes snapped to mine and held them. It was a moment before I could look away and when I did I felt my face warm a bit. I heard Edward sigh heavily.

"Sorry about that. Berta knows I despise that woman." Why did an intense of relief flow me when he said that? Edward shook his head as if dispelling a disgusting sight then looked at me again. "So, how was your move?"

"It was fine. Berta and Herbert are a great help and Pierre took me shopping."

"Pierre?" I swear I saw a flash of anger in his eyes or was it jealously? It was gone almost as fast as it came.

"My driver," I clarified. "I needed to stock up on food and whatnot."

"Oh."

There was a pregnant silence. It was awkward and I wanted to go but another, smaller part of me wanted to stay, just to hear him talk some more. I know he wasn't from here but from the states. I wanted to ask him where but from the look on his face he didn't look too keen on talking about himself to a stranger. He looked like he was having an internal battle with himself. His eyes were slightly unfocused and there were worry lines on his forehead. I could feel something in the air, something was wrong with him but I didn't know what.

I decided to leave. I wasn't sure what was going on but he didn't need any company right now.

"Um, well, it was nice meeting you. If I see Berta I'll tell her to, um, stand down." I smiled and stood, heading to the door.

"Yeah, nice meeting you, too, Bella,"

I turned and almost crashed into his chest. _How did he move so fast, so quietly?_

"Bye, Bella," He smiled at me. My heart sped up some. It took me a moment to answer.

"Bye, Edward," I walked out the door.

"Great! Great! _Great!_" I said the next morning. I was practically pulling my hair out trying to find the presentation portfolio I needed for the meeting. I know I have it because I looked over it last night to make sure everything was in order. Pierre would be here any minute and so would Krista.

Damien was playing with Snow on the floor completely oblivious to the rampage going on around him. I searched the cluttered coffee table and the cushions on the couch and still couldn't find it.

"Dammit," I muttered under my breath. I went to the dining room when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in!" I called.

"Bella?" I heard Krista call but before I could say anything Damien squealed.

"Krisha!"

"Damien!"

I heard him giggle and squeal loudly again. I was about to ask her for something when I noticed some paper under my laptop. I picked it up and sure enough, there it was.

"Yes!" I said a little too loudly.

"Bella?" I heard Sky call this time.

I walked to the living room.

"Sorry. I was all but having a panic attack trying to find some papers I needed for work."

"Oh," He said standing behind Krista.

Damien was already in her arms, talking animatedly.

"Morning, Bella. Pierre's on his way up. He had to pull around the side of the building to park the limo. The front was crowded." Krista said as she rubbed Damien's hair.

"Thanks," I said.

Sky's phone rang.

I packed up a few more things and double checked that I had everything. When Pierre arrived Sky turned to Krista as he'd just got off the phone.

"I've got to run. I'll be back by four."

Krista set Damien on the floor and popped _Blue's Clues_ in the DVD player then turned to Sky. She kissed his lips and I heard them say 'I love you' in French before he left with a wave and smile to me and a nod to Pierre.

I cocked my head to the side as I gazed at Krista. She seemed to be glowing, like his professing his love for her fueled her already happy mood. I wish I had something like that. I thought I did once and my eyes drifted to Damien, but I was wrong.

"Bella?" Pierre's voice was right next to me.

I started a little.

"Are you ready?" His eyes showed light concern so I smiled and nodded.

"Be a good boy, Damien," I kissed his head.

"Bye, bye, momma," He smiled a cheeky smile at me.

"See you later, Krista."

"Have a nice day!"

Pierre was already out the door and down the hall. When I turned after closing the door, Edward was just stepping out of his. He gave me a small crooked smile.

My breath hitched. Cue pulse acceleration.

"Morning, Bella,"

"Morning," I said, a little breathless.

"Sleep well?" We started down the hall.

"Hm," I nodded because I couldn't trust myself to speak yet. I took a deep breath before asking him the same.

"Mostly," was his answer.

The elevator ride was quiet and uneventful. I wanted to talk to him but I didn't know what to say. I could feel his eyes on me and it made me feel shy. When the doors opened I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and suddenly realized that there was a shitload of tension in there. It felt like I just walked out of a thick bubble full of…something. I decided not to dwell on it. At least not so early in the morning.

"See you later, Bella," He said when we reached the glass doors. He walked out and turned left, onto the cobble stoned street filled with stores and shops. Pierre pulled up in front of me. I got in and he pulled off.

"…and that's what you'll make by the end of the year if you sign with us." I finally finished.

Four hours of talking with two breaks for brunch that weren't nearly as long as I wanted them to be was a lot. I'd just finished my proposal to one of the top manufacturing companies in Europe. Davidson said that if I could sway them to use us to promote their products it would be the first international deal made in A&M's history.

Lay the weight of the world on my shoulders why don't you?

The ten gentlemen in the room deliberated in quiet voices. I was practically sweating my brains out, waiting. I was nervous, surprisingly, and now that their attention wasn't riveted on me, I didn't know what to do. I took my seat at the head of the table, folded my hands, crossed my legs and squared my shoulders.

I hated waiting.

After about ten minutes of hearing their mutterings they turned to face me and I stood. I think they held the silence just to make me sweat. And after a good thirty seconds, they accepted my proposal.

I breathed a heavy sigh of relief and smiled. They came towards me and shook my hand.

Now that the hard part was over, I could set up everything they needed and call Davidson. We had a lot of work to do.

**EPOV**

Why did being near _her_ make me lose my grip on everything? Standing in that elevator, such a small space, was torture for me. I tried to play it cool. I think I did pretty well. But there was tension in that small space. So much tension! I spent the whole walk and then some figuring out what that tension was about.

I couldn't understand it. When we talked last night there was nothing but awkwardness and nervousness. Now, I didn't know.

I didn't know how I actually felt about her. I just knew she shook me to the core. She was the angel and I was the devil, come to tear away her innocence. I scoffed at how ridiculous that sounded in my head.

I was working on a piano in the back of my shop. I needed to keep my hands busy. My A/C was broken back here so I was shirtless and dirty because I had to take the piano apart piece by piece and it was hot as hell. I tried to play it earlier but it sounded like something was stuck in it somewhere. So I took it apart.

No matter how busy I tried to keep myself, she just wouldn't leave my mind. She distracted me from the overbearing darkness I spent so long in. She let me dwell not on death as I have been for the past five years but on life. She made me feel like something else was there to believe in and not just the one thing I blamed myself for.

All this time I thought I had control over how I lived. I thought there was nothing for me out there except the small bit of reprieve I got from my music. The last bit of anything that reminded me of my father since my mother left.

But I decided not to think about that.

My mother finally contacted me. She finally spoke to me. I still couldn't believe it sometimes when I thought about it. I got so used to the thought that she wouldn't ever speak to me again because she was too lost in her mourning to do anything else. Even though I tried countless times to find her and contact her I just never thought different.

I remember a night when she read me a story. It was raining outside and it had just started to thunder. I was scared so she read to me to get my mind off the outside world. It was one of those traditional childhood stories that everyone knows, the one about the little engine that could. She said just like the engine thought he could make it up that hill I could make it through the night like a big boy and not be afraid of the storms outside.

I was five when she taught me that and since then I always remembered. So just like the little engine that could I kept my life going regardless of the fact that my father died and my mother ran away. I did it because of my music. I did it because I knew that my mother wouldn't want me to run away, too.

But I had control.

I had a certain way of doing things, a certain way of thinking. I never used to when my father was alive because he was always there. My mother was always there, too. I felt like I didn't have to hide or shield myself like I do now. But then…

_She_ came.

Bella.

She made me lose focus. She made everything seem like it didn't matter, that I could get through it. It excited me and scared me at the same time. I haven't been scared in years. I haven't felt truly excited in years.

And she talked to me. I felt like a giddy schoolboy last night when she came over. I hadn't expected that at all. She smiled, too. Such a beautiful smile. It lit up her whole face, twice over. I was glad she let me apologize for my horrible behavior that afternoon. But I was nervous talking to her. I was tongue-tied. I hardly knew what to say to her.

Then she told me that I was lucky I apologized because Berta was planning on telling lies to the evil concubine on the top floor. I shivered.

Oh shit!

My shivering hand jerked an already lose screw holding the lines of the keyboard together out. The whole piano came down on me.

"Shit!"

I would have a few bruises later…

I shoved the pile of keys and strings off my face and chest and stood. I looked at my watch. It was just after one in the afternoon. I needed lunch. I donned my shirt, checked to make sure I had my wallet and went across the street.

I ordered a pastry and a coffee. I sat at one of the tables on the far edge of the shop outside. I watched the people walk around. Some were tourists as I could tell from the maps and cameras they held. Others were couples who kissed every now and then. Others were people who were just out enjoying a beautiful day.

They were clueless as to what was going on inside my head and I don't think they'd want to know either way. Sometimes I wish I could live as freely as they do, as open as they do. I moved to get away from all that reminded me of what happened to my family. I thought I was going to bear this weight on my shoulders for the rest of my life but…she made me not want to.

She broke my well built shields just by looking at me.

And there she is again, in my mind. I can't escape her. And I don't think I want to. I wanted to let her in. I wanted her to know what happened to me. I wanted her to know me, not use me, not lie to me, none of that.

I wanted her.

Roughly twenty-four hours she's been here and she already had me in her grasp. I didn't think it could happen to me but it did and because it was so sudden I almost ruined my chances with her. But now that I knew this, I was still confused.

Sky said he and his girlfriend were babysitting. I'm guessing that meant she had a child. Maybe that was a baby monitor in her back pocket I saw last night when she left…

Kids.

I was great with kids. I don't know how and I don't know why but kids loved me and I loved teaching them. I did every day. I wonder if she'd let me meet her child…

"Edward?"

I was jerked from my thoughts by one of my students. Matt, who was eleven years old, was standing in front of me. He was small for an eleven year old but with his bright blue eyes and dirty blonde hair and a smile that could melt any girls' heart you didn't pay that much attention to it. He was an avid learner much like Emma.

"Salut, Matt," I stood and drank the rest of my coffee before throwing it away. I looked around for his mother but I didn't see her.

"Where's your mother?" I asked him as we walked to the stairs that led up to the studio.

"She had to get to work. She was running late. She gave me this to give to you."

He pulled an envelope from his pocket and handed it to me. It was payment for today's lesson. I put in my back pocket as we went up the stairs.

"Running late?"

"Oui, it's after two."

I looked at my watch. It was twenty after. She was running late and so was he.

"She hoped you wouldn't charge extra for me being late."

I shook my head.

"No, I won't." We reached the studio. "Have you been working on that piece I gave you last week?"

He nodded and pulled his music book from his small back pack. "Ma mere says I sound great but I don't think I got some notes right."

"Well, let's see."

We sat at the piano and he opened his book to the piece I gave him and he started. The piano was out of tune so I told him to wait for a moment. I ran downstairs, grabbed my tools and ran back up. I tuned a few notes, asked him to play them and when they sounded just right I listened to him play. He played almost as wonderfully as Emma. I was thinking of having them do a duet together.

As he played my thoughts once again drifted to Bella. This time I didn't think about how her eyes captured me. I thought about her physically. To be thinking of someone physically while in the presence of young children was not healthy. See what I mean about her breaking my thought control?

Damn.

Her creamy skin and long brown hair…I wanted to run my fingers through it and brush them across her skin. Her hips were wide and the way she walked was so tantalizing that I swear I had a bit of a hard on when she left my apartment. I wonder if she knew how sexy her walk was or how radiant she looked when she smiled.

"Edward, did I do it right?"

I visibly jumped when Matt's voice broke my day dreaming. I looked down at him and told him to do it again. And this time, I was going to actually pay attention.

Mostly.

**Okay, people! Here's the deal. We aren't sure when the next update will be. The next chappie is mostly done but that's not the problem. We need reviews. How will we know you guys want more if you don't review. They fuel our writing meter, you know. Without reviews our writing speed goes down and so do the updates. Yes, we do this for own enjoyment but we want others to enjoy it too. Please, please, please review! We want to know your thoughts and if there's anything you'd like to see in the story. Again, we'll update when chappies are done. We may set a schedule but only if the demand is high. If you want more, TELL US!**

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**~R4L and LSR~**


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